To Sleep, Perchance To Dream
What a sweet relief it would be to sleep eternally and dream. My body is tired. I am terminally ill from appointments, lab tests, lab results, HMO's, the revolving door of physicians who, in the end, cannot help me. I trudge from building to building, office to office and laboratory to laboratory. To what purpose? I am dying. I am in that moribund state of limbo. I am neither dead nor am I truly living. What a sweet relief it would be to sleep eternally and dream. To sleep, perchance to dream.
For more on dreams and writing, check out Burrowers, Books & Balderdash.
drabble- n. A story written in exactly 100 words.
"To sleep, perchance to dream," Act 3 scene 1 lines 65-66 , Hamlet by William Shakespeare.
Image courtesy of: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Darcy_white_dreams.jpg
I love it, and it was a very fitting intro to your Burrow blog post :)
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