The morning is grey and I struggle to leave my bed. 

Get up.

I spread my arms and think of the things that need to get done.

No.

I curl up again and burrow under the blankets listening to the persistent tap tap tap of the rain against my window.

Get up.


Why? Nothing matters. 

Get up. This is what healthy normal people do.

I lay there, fighting the part of me that could just die and be done with it.

Get up.

I hear the jingle of a collar as the dog gets up and stretches.

I feel warm breath as a wet nose searches my blankets for me.

Get up.

“Ok boy, let’s go.”