I woke just past 4am.
Dry throat. Drink water. Try not to register too many awake sensations so I can drop back into the black of sleep.
Turn over to find the cooler side of the pillow. The more comfortable twist of the quilt. My shoulders are cold. My legs are hot.
The window’s open. Perhaps I should shut the window. But that would mean getting out of bed.
I can hear the seagulls. It must be near dawn. The gap in the curtains gives a glimpse of night sky already fading. Continue reading