Feverish
You sleep because you are overcome with the exhaustion of the laborious nature of breathing. You sleep fitfully, your arms roamning the bed in search of the comforting heat or cool. Worst of all, you dream.
Fever-dreams are madness in the world of sleep. The person that you are in your dream world unravels in insanity and the story threads begin to fray. Nothing makes sense, as your higher brain dumps a jumble of information to your cerebellum and the mish-mash of knowledge is presented to you in some sort of warped context that you try to comprehend. You are dancing to music that is playing in reverse, with partners that should never meet.
You cough in your sleep, as your body takes over with reflexes that shake you and tear your throat. And you wake with hot breath and mouth painted with chicken soup and orange juice. Your head is full of mud, and you wipe a mustache of perspiration away when you blow your nose. You are dazed and tired, but afraid to sleep.
For in fevered sleep, the fevered dreams return.
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