Clara slumped at the foot of my bed. I opened one eye and watched as she stared at the floor, slack-jawed, half sleeping.
“Hey,” I called to her, kicking her a little with my foot. “You alright?”
Without moving she rasped in her early morning voice, “I don’t like waking up with this scratchy nose and mouth.” She coughed a few times to clear her throat, but continued in the same gravely tones. “Every night I go to bed hoping that I won’t wake up like this, and then every morning it’s exactly the same.” She pointed at her face angrily and shook her head. “Well…” she slid off the bed and walked towards the door, “I guess this is just my life now, I should probably get used to it.”
“Probably,” I thought to myself checking the time through one squinted eye. Just like the rest of us have had to get used to being woken up by the Nonsense Fairy every morning, two or three hours before our alarm is set to go off. I rolled over and covered my head in a blanket.