The moon is still high when the insomniac wakes. Thoughts and worries churn through her mind, and all efforts to fall back asleep are in vain.
She hears the clock on the mantlepiece go tick, tick, tick, tick. When the sun is almost ready to rise and the morning bird sings its first song, she finally nods off.
But in half an hour, the alarm will wake her to begin another exhausted day.
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2 comments:
This is beautiful. There are a lot of other words, but ...beautiful's it. :)
Thank you very much, booda baby :-)
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