They began to sense that something was going on a couple of nights ago.
Code:
Deep sleep, hard to wake.
The sandman's crusty cover
impossible to shake.
Groggy mornings, first evidenced only by alarm clock ignorance, eventually became concrete as paralysis set in.Code:
Murp! murp! murp! murp! murp!
What? Shake head rattle.
Moving your legs, no more ease, a battle,
one ton limbs suddenly the norm.
Frightened concentration required for walking,
a gentle unseen hand over mouth prevents talking.
Three days later it’s just beginning to become apparent. The Nocturnal Controllers are playing their games.Code:
Cranberry juice, cranberry juice, cranberry juice.
Nothing.
They’re actually not surprised.
That shit only works in the movies.
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