The bed

In a darkened room, there were two. One was asleep, the other was awake. He slept in fear of the sunset. She slept to avoid the blinding sunrise that might compromise her sight. He would never sleep before dawn to wonder at the lustre of the breaking day. She will never sleep before dusk to feel at one with the commune. He feared the gradual shift from light into darkness, from elation to melancholy, any symbol associated with it, especially the sunset. She feared diversity, any behaviour associated with it, and saw it as rebellion. He feared transition. She wanted to experience only night and light, ignoring the transition. In his sleep, he confronted fear. In her wake, she dreamt of satisfying equality. He struggled, frustrated. She conformed, satiated.