At 10pm, after busily busying themselves for as long as they possibly can to avoid the dreaded inevitable despite all attempts to talk them into it any sooner, their eyes and bodies finally finally succumb to the sweet sweet sound of the hiss and hum of the day being left behind and the night creeping creeping creeping softly as they drop drop drop into the world of dreams and nothingness. This fight (with themselves, not us, might I add) to the bitter end occurs daily as never will they admit to themselves their own flialing strength. Then the house is silent and their mother could too be sleeping soundly in her big comfortable bed readying herself for the onslaught of the day ahead, she too sits up ignoring ignoring her own body's signals - the droopy eyes, the tired back, the hardly got through the last day feeling - just because, just because she feels like it. Tapping tapping at the keyboard, in her own mind, no one to distract or clutter or need her. just because there is always more more more to do to do to do................
