The ladder creaked as he climbed up to his loft, the wooden boards laying across the rafters of his hut. He lifted himself onto the boards and crawled over to the thin mattress he had laid there, a thick wool blanket that protected him from the cold below him.
A candle’s light flickered with his movements as the weight of the day brought him down onto the mattress. He pulled the assortment of blankets over his body as he took in a deep breath. He could read, perhaps journal. He had had many ideas throughout the day, fun tales he could regal his friends with.
But his eyes were heavy, struggling to remain open for any length of time. His spirit willing, but not eager. The trials of the day too much of a burden for him. He leaned over and exhaled heavily, blowing out the candle, leaving the small fire in the hearth below to provide him with enough light to see the edges of his loft.
Tomorrow would be much of the same, as would the day after, he thought to himself as his body fell asleep, his mind still pressing on.
