A Night of Tranquility
The sky is dark. The clock strikes four. I stop yearning for sleep. It’s futile. I rise from my bed and sit upon my usurped armchair. Picasso has not taken it over last night. I untangled my limbs from the twisted gyrations I had formed in bed . I feel myself relax. It is pitch black. Outside my window, the early birds softly chatter amongst themselves. Except for them, the world is quiet. I feel my eyelids grow heavy. They droop in their need for sleep, but no, I first have to go downstairs to make myself a pot of tea.
Softly, I tip-toe downstairs. I forgot to brew a pot last night. I come back and sit in my armchair once more. The silence echoes in my head. I like this night. It feels comforting. Once more, my eyelids become heavy with the desire for sleep. I succumb to it. I doze off. When I wake up, I notice the sky outside my window is becoming light. The early birds seem to have fallen back to sleep as well, for they are silent. I get up and slip back into my lonely bed. I glide into a deep peaceful slumber. I next wake up to a crescendo of happy birds singing their hymns in celebration of the advent of the new day. Good morning world! Good morning this bright new day! I smile to myself. Yes, it’s going to be a good morning. I can feel it in my bones.