Tick-tock, the clock paces the heartbeat, as you wrestle the newspaper with reflexes, slowly succumbing to watch darkness behind your eye lids. The sound of paper fights like a sleepy child, until silence is heard. A steady breath flows out of you; chest rising and deflating. Tight lips begin to sag, mouth opens, a sigh appears. A heavy arm falls to your side. You twitch, wipe your chin, eyes open, and again read the paper. Alert to today’s news, the paper child wrestles, then drifts off again.