It's 7.50, rather late on my clock, but I'm still lying still on my bed. Feet stretched out to reach for my cat. She keeps my feet warm because for some reason they are usually always cold.
I feel ill. Like there's an ocean in my stomach and dry, white sand in my throat. Times like this I usually say I don't feel good. So, I don't feel good. I feel like seagulls have picked at my limp legs like they would to the new born turtles. I'm not moving. The other day, it was a Friday. After I got home I switched on the television. There was a children's show about turtles and the turtles were scurrying towards to waters. The seagulls were attacking them. My knees feel like icebergs. I think I ate too much fish yesterday.
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