The dead of the night brings no peace.
There are no distractions in the still hours of the night.  
A man is marooned with his thoughts and has no way to hide from them.
A man feels he has but one option and soon whiskey fumes pervade the small, closet of a room that he calls home.
Outside of his one window the wind plays with the large oak in the field across the street.
  It is a warm peaceful night outside but inside his apartment a battle rages.  Broken chairs and an upturned table tell the tale of a mind in serious trouble, of a person in battle with themselves.