Page 10 - Horizon 18-19

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Procrastination
Temptation secrets from the comforting embrace of suede brown cushions, overwhelming my frazzled brain with false promises of comfort. Their pull is overpowering. Magnetic. Magnetic like the paper clasp in my locker. Locker. School. Homework. Tests, quizzes, essays, routines, pieces, dates, times.
Silence.
The kitchen clock ticks and tocks in the distance, pulling my consciousness away from the couch’s alluring hold. Curse its reminders. How I wish those taunting arms would freeze for just a moment.
The muffled conversations of late night sitcom characters brush past my ears in their comical lullaby, making me momentarily forget the worries the kitchen clock so rudely reminded me of. Responsibility releases me from its talloned grip. Looming due dates evaporate before my fluttering eyelids. For a moment, I think I am free.
This sleep is not deserved. Each second spent on this couch feels like an eternity; opportunity wastes away before my closed eyes. The pounding in my chest becomes unbearable as anxiety slithers back into my consciousness. The late-night- entertainment symphony becomes a cacophony of shouts and screams, ripping away the false sense of security that it momentarily provided. Symphony. Band. Practice. Morning Class, school, homework, essays, turnitin, dawn, deadlines.
Procrastination.
Terrin Akstens '19