Freshly conditioned air and the creaks and cracks of leather as he readjusts on the couch.

And then sluggish metal frames. They sometimes forget there are individuals within those frames.

And uniform red dots warp and run together.

And children dancing between the streets.

Eyelids that seem piled with rough, jagged stones. The Herculean feat is not in keeping them open but in hoping that when they shut, she is not on his mind.