THE LIZARDS
by Ryan Thompson



He sighed. The lizards of sleep were crawling about in his limbs. He could barely type now, and he knew that if he got up his legs would not support him and he'd collapse.

"No," he said. "I can't sleep. I have loads of homework."

"Sleep," the lizards intoned soothingly but with a slight tinge of menace. "You want to. You need to. Sleep. You'll thank us tomorrow."

"I can't—"

"It will be beautiful," they murmured. "We're only doing this because we love you," said one.

"Maybe I if the . . . "

Great. They had already started to gnaw his brain to mush. They were working on his fingers when he felt the sensation he dreaded most.

"Get off my eyes!"

They were tugging on his eyelids, forcing them shut.

"Get off! You don't know how important this assignment is!"

But it was too late. The sleep lizards got his eyes closed and held them fast. Within minutes they had finished chewing his brain to gunk and he fell asleep, his hands resting on the keyboard, moving slightly with his breathing.