Night time, blanket of darkness cloaking you in serene meditation.
Frost covered world. Gentle snow and delicate shimmer that sucks up the sound.
Milky light, pin-pricked sky.
I’ve willed myself into becoming an insomniac. It’s a peculiar ambition. I’ve succeeded.
My mind unable to turn off … choosing to look out into the darkness with sleep-sick eyes.
Caffiene buzz. The train. Drunken stumbles … late night soundtrack.
The house creaks, waffle stretches, I sigh.