now that was a nap

That was a nap that makes the other naps whistle a low, "da-a-a-mn."

That was a nap of stygian oblivion. A state of perfect matte blackness from which you awaken unsure whether tomorrow has eclipsed today.

That was a nap that bulleted past with all but its wingtips tucked and obliterated your little sparrow of consciousness in such a blinding explosion of feathers and talons that you didn't have time to whimper.

That, my friends, was a nap.

Damn.


[update: I submitted this entry to Six Sentences and they accepted and posted it here.]