The night and I are at odds.
The darkness whispers quietly.
And the words, although not recognizable, permeate my being.
It’s as if I am waiting for something or someone.
An unatural feeling of anticipation seeps through my pores and yet I know not why.
Sleep eludes me.
I want to dream and be free to fly the heavens.
Yet I can not.
Suddenly, the whir of the heater and the humming of the ice box bring me out of my reverie.
And, once again, the coolness of the early morning engulfs me.
I wonder, how does one make friends with the night?