It is after midnight when LQR sits back with a sigh, closes the book, and smooths a hand over the cover… The next thing he knows, he’s waking up to the early light of a summer dawn streaming through his windows. His neck aches abominably and his shoulders are tight.
The book slid down onto the floor sometime in the night, and when LQR leans down to pick it up, his back twinges a loud complaint. He hisses, and eases back into the chair. He’s too old to be sleeping on anything other than his carefully selected orthopedic mattress.
LQR leaves the book on the floor for the moment, and does some slow, seated movements to limber himself back up before making an attempt to stand. His legs don’t quite want to straighten all the way, and he shuffles into the kitchen half-bowed to start the kettle.
There’s a bottle of painkillers somewhere, but LQR knows better than to take them on an empty stomach which means he needs tea, which will wake up his appetite, and enable him to eat something. Only then can he take the medication, unless he wants a horrendous gut ache as well.
LQR leans against the counter while the kettle boils and does some slow stretches. His hips are angry at being in a seated position for so long, and the pain radiates up into his back and down his legs as he gets the blood moving again. Getting old is so undignified.
he morning slips away as he works through tea, breakfast, painkillers, and then a very light round of tai chi. That alone feels like a full day’s work and by the time LQR is feeling less stiff, he finds himself desperately in need of a nap. He slept neither long nor well in the chair.
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