Vigor have crept up the ceiling. Some are hiding high above, behind the curtain the others lurking behind closets, crouching with hands covering their heads eluding a feral beast. Energy has decided to relive second chilhoods and played hide-and-seek. The dampness of the august rain hovers above roofs like a cloud from where it came from and settled down on every imaginable crevice. Leaving thin strips of ribbon on the gutter. Slithering away to look for a nest. Effervescent. Gray. Dirty.

I die from non-activity. Swirling, spiraling into a forced stupor.