She’s so sleepy her eyelids keep drooping, and she struggles to keep them open. She wishes she could do that ‘matchstick in eyes’ trick like in the Tom & Jerry show. She pulls the blanket closer and tries to continue talking. She wants this moment and this conversation to never end. But she starts lisping. And fumbling for words. Which is very rare for her. And slowly, she goes silent. The silence envelops her. She is lost. So lost that she can’t even remember where she is.
She falls asleep, right there, while talking. He slowly removes her glasses. She wills her eyes to open, but her body fails her. It is too tired to respond to any of her commands. She sighs deeply and gives in. Because she knows how futile it is to fight sleep after forty-eight hours of being awake.