Where to begin? Some stories are difficult to tell . They are living and moving and are yet undecided which way they will go. They started out of the ordinary like stories do , once upon a time, and are now struggling to rise above the commonplace . Fretting over how uninteresting they might be getting, if they are to someday meet their happily ever after , secretly hoping that there will be no such end.
Yet , this story has a conclusive title. For the little nondescript heroine, Mrs Bear (as she likes to be endearingly called) has been struck. Startled into losing her sleep. Mrs. E (as she likes to be intimidatingly and mysteriously called) has had her revenge.
It so happened, and not by chance either that as Mrs Bear was clearing away the table after a breakfast of Eggplant Bruschetta heavily scented with basil and a berry banana super smoothie she was very proud of having fed her family that she had to hold her head in its place and sit herself down. Panic kept her together , this would be the third migraine in three weeks. Mostly blended into the background,her pulse made sure she heard its grating throb.
” Mrs Bear , close your eyes and sleep.” So said Mr. Bear. So warned Mrs. E.
So ignored Mrs Bear. She lay awake listening to the dismal prospects of impending rain.Bored, she befriended the google monster.He made her feel smart, after a long day of nursery rhymes and squabbles. Too hot too cold, complained she to the coverlet , taking turns to embrace and kick it. Scared to sleep , scared to not. She got out of the bed with the sun and painted feverishly.
She tries desperately to make everyday unlike everyday. Quite so, quite so. She fails. Everywhere are chores.Babies wail. They swallow the day as a whole.
“Mrs Bear, let be ” So says Big Bear. So alerts and guffaws a gritty laughter Mrs E.
Mrs Bear she gets full of guilt if she let be. In the early morning she grows a shadow of afternoon three.
Mrs E of calculating eyes, of ill short temper, chortles with her thin lips , ” you had been warned, now must suffer!!”
Poor Mrs bear has slept hardly much , her headache hasn’t left. She forgets. It’s been a month.
Now, of course she thinks she will do better. Feed herself better, and make sleeping important. For her story still has a long long way to go. Mrs E ‘s nasty revenge shall remind her.
Mrs. E , INTIMIDATINGLY and MYSTERIOUSLY so called, is exhaustion. A steep rise, a deep ravine. Don’t let her get YOU.