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Apr 2016
I was woken at around 5:30am by one of my flatmate's many coughing fits, this not being anything out of the ordinary. My insomnia left my hearing hypersensitive to all variety of usually below the radar noises. Often this time of night caused my mind to suffer from a lack of focus, an unrelenting stream of random thoughts seemed to just bombard my inner thinking space. All manor of things crossed this space, only existing for a moment, then disappearing almost as soon as they had come to my attention. This inability to concentrate my body on sleep would take its toll, I imagined, though acting very little upon this warning. The coughing had seemed to have stopped, and the gentle warmth from the nearby radiator made the room comfortable enough to exist in, at least until the traffic began in the next few hours. This twinned with the rising of the sun would completely ruin my chances of drifting back off, as due to compulsion I always slept with the curtains open. I rolled across the sheets and slid myself into my office chair placed tactically by the window. A small flint lighter was poised for occasions such as these. Lighting up a cigarette I opened the window to embrace the silence that hung in the air like the smoke that cascaded it's way across my lips and ****** features. Knowing not how to distract myself I mindlessly drew until the embers burned down to the filter, craving the rest my body so desperately desired. Once extinguished, I slid back under the duvet where my still tepid body heat was noticeable to the temperature of the air around me. Finding little pleasure in this I scanned the room. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing especially of interest at this moment in time. Almost sighing I curled the unbuttoned sheets around my face and head, only leaving my eyes, nose and mouth bare to my surroundings. The frame noticeably creaked with the movement. Once still my thoughts returned to pin balling themselves around in such an abstract manor that I simply closed my eyes and listened to the show. Almost a lecture of my deprived state of being flowed forth which required little conscious effort to follow along, more like background noise. After what seemed potentially to be a shorter period of time than I had imagined my eyelids became lazy and only remained open long enough to see the first signs of dawn extinguished behind the entwining of my eyelids. It wouldn't last. Soon I'd be forced to rise once again and return to regular human activities, but for now I enjoyed the stand-by. The delicate existence between asleep and awake. The sort of existence where ideas climb over each other to become dreams. Dreams, which, as I had grown used to, would be short lived and their memory lost to my subconscious library. But that would come later, in the morning. Until then I enjoyed the peace, though it wouldn't last for long.
Written by
Simon Ashman
206
 
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