Wake me up when September ends.

He felt as if few none too lightweight fairies were resting on his eyelids, sending him to the land of sweet slumber. He slapped himself from time to time to snap out of the extreme torpor. There was no charm in sleeping during class time. Sleep bore down on him, loosening his will, loosening the joints of his limbs. Sleep bore down on him like a cascade. He felt heavy, like water. He felt his skin bulge like the skin of a water bag. Then he fell headlong into sleep and woke up after September ended.