Friday, December 6, 2013

"Battle of the Brains" by Justin Turner

Prompt: What does your sleeping dreaming mid think in the moments before you wake up? What are its last hopes, fears, or promises to itself as the alarm goes up and it feels itself vanishing?

            Ugh. 5:56. Four more minutes before I have to deal with him.  I don’t have time for his utterly happy thoughts or his complete laziness. There is work to be done, thinking to do!
            5:59. Here we go. 6:00. “Beep! Beep! Beep!”  I can feel Justin begin to move. Come on shut it off. Just a few steps to your alarm.  I try my best to keep him in a groggy state of mind as he slowly inches toward the alarm clock.  Just a few more steps!  I can feel my power over him slowly slip away as my pesky neighbor begins his day.  No. I’m not done yet.  Justin slams the alarm clock and as per usual I coax him back to bed. “Come on just more minutes,” I think to him.  After studying for chemistry the night before, he can’t resist and is soon back on his bed dreaming.  Phew.  He hadn’t finished solving his problem yet. Now he has a few extra minutes before he really has to go.  However I now have my own problem to deal with. 
            “Good morning!” I roll Justin’s eyes in his sleep as my arch nemesis comes for his turn. “How are you today?”
“I was fine until you came along,” I said expressionless.
He lets out a staged laugh, “Looks like you’ve taken some extra time again. You do realize it’s my turn.  There are things for Justin to do and learn you know.”
“No. You say that every morning, yet you still manage to make him procrastinate and watch TV instead of doing something truly productive; as a result of that you cut into my time at night when he’s trying to vigorously catch up because you just had to enjoy every little thing but what he needs to do. I’m the only one actually doing anything productive around here.  Just listen to what he’s dreaming about. He’s problem solving, without your distractions I might add.”
He smiles, and says, “He’s not learning anything! I supply those problems you so desperately want him to fix.  Listen to yourself; you need me!  I’ll give you until 6:15 today, but I expect an awake boy tomorrow at 6.”

“Fine,” I say full well knowing that tomorrow was Saturday and not even he wanted to work that early in the morning.  He disappears for a little while at least and I peacefully sit back and watch the beauty of sleep at work.

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