It was a night when sleep lingered just out of reach. A night when the first hours of the new day were announced by the chiming of the mantle clock.. one o'clock, two o'clock.
Warm tea, hot totties, dry books, all failed to take me into the land of dreams.
The tiniest of noises competed for attention until it seemed I must be in the middle of some midnight workshop. LED displays on microwaves, cable boxes, and clocks put out megawatts of light. The shadows cast as I shuffled past these devices were misshapen things that had me wondering about my true identity.
Each mirror, window, and glass-framed picture presented an opportunity to catch a reflection of those ethereal creatures that slink about only in the deadest parts of the night. Not only the hairs on the back of my neck, but those on my arms and legs stood at attention. Nerve endings tingled with racing electric currents.
The hour hand of the clock was nearly on the three when I finally drifted off ... for my two and-a-half hours of sleep. I was roused not by the alarm but by the scraping scales of night creatures slithering from the light of false dawn.
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