Hunter’s Glen, 2 AM

Short Entry

Here I look out across the illegible street signs and catch sight of the yellow bedroom light, still glowing. I speculate at who might reside there — the young man awake studying, the old man awake doing whatever it is older men do when they retire in privacy. I can’t say - I’ve never known much about that.

I do know that it is not the room of an insomniac. Insomniacs are more accustomed to the dull blue of the late programs and what’s more I know it is very difficult to stay in your bedroom when there is no hope of resting.

No, I know now who resides in this room. It is man my age, at the edge of his bed, and a light left on by one sleeping — afraid of the darkness. It is always dark at 2am.