was yesterday. Really

though, if the books

hadn't been stacked

quite as tightly

together as they were,

then perhaps they

wouldn't have created

quite the literary

avalance that there

was.

At this, the man's

breathing evened; he

even let a small laugh

escape.

Beside him, the woman

stirred, her cerulean

eyes fluttering open as

she tried to ascertain

what exactly had

caused her to wake up

at such an hour. It was

only a few seconds

before the woman

registered the presence

of her definitely awake

partner, one who was

obviously feeling

stressed.

"Sam" She murmered

her voice croaky from

sleep. "You okay?"

The man, Sam, didn't

respond straight away.

For a few seconds he

simply stared unmoving

at a fixed point, his chin

resting upon his fisted

hands. "Oh, yeah, fine."

He replied. It was

blatantly obvious that

he wasn't. He was sat,

hunched over, and the

tension in his jaw and

shoulders were almost

tangible. Resolutely, he

remained focused on a

predetermined place. It

appeared as though he

had a lot of practice in

this exercise.

Rolling her eyes in

knowing, the woman

stretched, letting out a

rather large yawn.

Severely lacking in any

form of grace or

physical coordination,

she shifted herself in

the bed until she too

was sat up. Glancing to

her left, she took note

of the shape that the

flashing lines had

created. The clock read

Shadow Of A MemoryWhere stories live. Discover now