I considered putting this in the Other Fiction forum, but I couldn't decide, so I put it here. Enjoy, and feel free to comment.
Strength
I was angry. Sad, too. I needed some rest. Time to sort out my feelings, time to recollect, and wake up tomorrow anew. I couldn't. Couldn't relax until these emotions drifted away. They wouldn't. Thinking made me tired, and the more tired I was the more sleep I needed; the more sleep I couldn't get. I had so much to carry. I wanted to collapse under the weight; I didn't have the strength to stand up. And then I saw the tree.
The tree needed to rest. It couldn't. Not by choice, but rather because of the baby sparrows nesting in its branches. It remained standing.
