Rab shivers awake, feeling thin and pale on white. She strokes her long soft ears, twitches her nose and looks up, suddenly #arrested by a gaze. Whose eyes are those? She watches a quill dip, tap, and come down close to describe her soft warm bed, and sleep draws her in

#vss365

Sleep wakes in the night, yawns a stretch, always too restless to fall, and always so tired. He climbs from his bed, and slumps at his writing desk. The boy lights a candle, dips his quill in #blue ink, and slowly and beautifully, draws her out in letters on white paper

#vss365

Rab looks up from her bed at the boy with the blue quill writing her in blue ink on white sheets. His eyes burn with candlelit flame. She wonders who he is, as she is drawn from a Sleep, realising he wants her to go where he cannot, out into the night, into the #street

#vss365

Sleep #dabs at a blob of blue ink, spilt into a smudge of ears, tail, tall and elegant. Out the window, a sun rises, its light dims his candle. His flicker lost. His door thumped. 'Come on, Sleepy, rise and shine!' He dresses and descends, heads out to fields of carrots

#vss365

Rab watches Sleep go, leaving her alone with not much more than her bed described. She dons the grey three-piece suit he has left her, studies the saucepan logo & blue feather on the bowler hat, before putting it on, tucking her ears in. Ties her #ruby bow tie. Now what?

#vss365