If I Were Eternity

Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I drowsily glance at the glowing clock. Its red laser lines glare 2:30 AM from the black corner.

"Is this real?"

Me alone in my small apartment awake in the early hours of the compromising morning. And this strange contraption steadily meets my gaze confidently affirming my shifting place in the vast universe.

"2:30 AM, huh?"

I take an empty beer can and throw it at the tyrant. What nerve!

Rolling over, I approach rest. The pillow is now uncomfortable; it feels as though it is deforming my heavy head. I ignore it in my fatigue, but the feeling grows unbearable. The pressure on my skull increases. I begin to feel my brain implode, yet I still do nothing. My willful paralysis becomes torturous. The nightmare persists. My head sinks lower, lower into the pillow as into quicksand. Its feathery form smothers me yet I breathe freely.

Then I start to ruminate:

"The pillow is an amazing and unchanging invention. Largely rectangular and soft, it is built for comfort, built for sleep. When it brings sleep, the body repairs and prepares for new hurdles. Yet at the turn of a dime, the pillow can be effectively used to murder, to destroy. Placed firmly over the nose and mouth, it cuts the oxygen flow off from the lungs. Death by asphyxiation. Diabolical, isn't it? This soft thing my head rests upon has the power to grant sleep....or death."

I glance up at the clock again: 2:42 AM. I hurl another empty beer can at its mocking face. If only it would stop laughing.

"Time's laughter is insidious and insulting. But if I were eternity, I guess I'd be laughing too. If I were eternity, I'd laugh myself to sleep."

Then I rolled over in my bed and began to chuckle.