Drabble #41 – Sleeping Pill
It’s 4am, and a voice is murmuring against my ear like sin, like sleeping pills. I do not say anything, because you’re picking at the threads of another conversation I don’t want to have, but we don’t mention that. You’re so afraid of silence, afraid of the thoughts that lurk there and the off-chance that I might get the courage to say them. “Go to sleep,” you whisper, a smile ghosting around your lips, as if were that simple. Can’t, I almost whisper back, you’re all I see when I close my eyes. Almost.
“Scared of the dark?”
Something like that.