With the economy in shambles and a sense of weariness visible on nearly every face, a new saying floated into town: “Sleeping is Free”. It was, in fact, an old saying, from the last time things had gone bad. Back then it had been more of a consolation—each day brought new expenses, but always ended in a night of rest for all, free of charge. This time, however, things were worse. The jobs hadn't packed up and left town—they had simply disappeared, sunk into the ground, vanished. “Sleeping is Free,” they said. This time it was a battle cry.
Each morning started with a deep breath. Life was still happening, job or no job. The sidewalks would fill with people, the buses as crowded as ever. But quickly it would be over, the crowds would be gone, and the street, no longer filled with the perpetual noise of construction and repair, would fall silent. Benches in the park greeted warm bodies. When the benches were all full, they lay on the grass. Clocks ticked, numbers grew, interest compounded, and everyone slept.
