Sleep.
It’s somewhere between 6am and 6.15am. My iphone is buzzing next to me, a carefully considered tune of chimes playing their way through my sheets into my ear drums. I go to push the sound button to silence the iritating reminder that, yes, it’s time to get up, and yes, it’s morning again. I open one eye. wow, that’s difficult. Did I leave my eye makeup on again? How many hours did I actually get last night? Let me try this again. Slowly, I open my left eye, squinting, trying to focus through the soul wrenching sun beams that are interrupting the darkness of my tranquil bedroom.
Focus. Come on. You need to get up. it’s 6.20am already. “Morning! Did you want a cup of tea hun?!” Shouts my mum from the kitchen. Yep, it’s definitely time to wake up.
I sit up. The room is still blurry. Why is it still blurry? Both eyes are drawn open now. I’m blinking. Counting in my head, I realise I had only had six hours.. what was I doing until 12am? Why did I not think this through?

The train is silent. there is an eeriness of peace, the feeling of knowing you have completed the first day back to work, that you, have been working for eight hours, and now, it’s time to go home. It’s time to go home to eat, to watch tv, to have a glass of wine, to sleep.
Approaching my stop, I look left. On his own, seated in a six chair arrangement, a grown man lawls across two red covered south west train seats. His tie flung over his white cotton shirt, his arms crossed, his mouth wide open, his eyes closed shut. A grown man asleep on public transport, exhausted from his day, unaware of those around him, thoroughly engrossed in the luxury of sleep, a childlike innocence overtaking his adult form.
Sleep is an interesting concept. We bury ourselves in our imagination, take ourselves away from the rat race, from the our to-do lists, our daily goals, our life plans, our 9–5’s. We close our eyes, we recover our tissues, muscles, organs, skin, bones and entire body.
The train arrives at Weybridge. As the doors beep, I see out of the corner of my eye, mister sleeping beauty has jumped awake, grabbed his brief case from the above shelf and is jogging towards the beeping doors, with a look of confusion and blurriness laying upon his sleep deprived face.
I guess we can’t all sleep forever.