By Andrew R. Duckworth
There are some times when I’m too tired to think or hope or feel. Perhaps it was the news, the 24 hour news cycle that never slows down and only speeds up, from a freight train to a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier. Perhaps it was the endless talking, some knowing something and others nothing, but all of them talking. Perhaps it was the endless list of things to do, the one where if I see it I near immediately reject it, like some offensive wound that won’t heal. Perhaps it was the stress of holding over one hundred individuals at once, trying to get them to the finish line when their feet were too tired to move. And perhaps I was just too tired to think or hope or feel.
