I am ten years old. It is night time and my clock with the blue light on it has run out of batteries so I don’t know what the time is. I don’t want to get out of bed, but I want to count something. I roll onto my side and breathe in as hard as I can and I hold the air inside of me. I quickly try to count my ribs before I have to breathe out again. I frown, the number keeps changing. I’m not quick enough to count them all twice before I breathe out. This worries me. I have something I cannot count by myself. I am going to have to ask Daddy how many ribs you are supposed to have tomorrow. I breathe in again, I’m not sure how long I do this for.
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