A disassembled day lays scattered on the side of her too-full table. Dim light reminds her that she has been there for far too long without movement. But she does not move.
She contemplates the darkness that is creeping up on her, thinks about the feeling of warm water surrounding her, and how nice that might feel right now. But she does not move.
"Some tea would be good" she mutters, as if it will coax her from the stationary position she has taken… it doesn't.
"It's been a long day"