Things That Can't Wait

The code spilling before my eyes was immense and convoluted, elegent and engrossing. The determined efforts of the crew around me faded to black: life, the universe, and my sense of self swallowed up in the glowing script on a borrowed screen. Meaning danced within reach but evaded every grasp. A logic, beautiful and complete, entirely self-contained, hinted at its own existence while refusing to be fully revelatory.

Edges blurred, both in reason and at the edges of my vision. Somewhere a tiny mental prick reminded me I was overdue for sleep, food, water, and a meaningful relationship. Whether preoccupied or just as inherently cocky as individuals in my field tend to be, I assumed all four could wait.

Realistically, the relationship could have waited.

Food and water were debatable, at the very least.

Sleep, a warm embrace of darkness, refused to delay its coming, and those blurred edges came sliding together, uninvited but welcome all the same.

In my personal darkness, the answer came.

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