Of Course

Of course.
Just as daunting, just as far away.
There’s heat on my neck, my hands turned to lead.
The room closes in on me.
The smell of ink.
Screen glow. I pull my blanket, check the corner:
2:16am.

The sound of a cleat scraping turf, it catches my leg.
Air and disconnection, then sharp pain.
The ball rolls away; I scramble to get up.

I'm fine, I'm fine.
My blood drips to the ground.
Deep breaths.
My lungs are empty.
Every step, more pain.
Each stride forward loses ground.

The birds haven't started chirping yet. Again.
How many hours now?
My eyes burn. Just the sound of flipping pages.

One more try.
I shoot through the pain.
Everything goes silent.
The net never answers.
Shake of the head.
Ball at my feet. The goal is further away.
Of course.