Deadline presses hard, hard against my mind and thoughts. And so my fingers press harder; harder against the keyboard. Striking words, pushing thoughts, from the inside to the out. 

Minutes pass, and hours; the pendulum sways them all away. We pass into the new day together.

Until a small voice cries; grows insistent. It rouses me from the silence of myself. I am no longer alone. And I remember now: I never was.

For a moment, the pendulum stops swinging. Gives me a chance to weigh which deadline cries the louder, then presses on.

I stand, decision made, and push the door wide open. Tiny eyes seek; little fingers point. Tears make it clear.

He is lost. Dark is for rest, but tonight he can’t find it alone. Mother sets it right, picks him up, holds him close.

And the deadline presses hard, hard against arms and heart. Flood the words, flood the thoughts, from the inside to the out. He finds a cradle in my arms, and in the cradle he finds what he was looking for.

Minutes pass; I ask for hours. The pendulum sways them all away.

We pass into the new day together.

Deadline met.