The night began with a heaviness that pressed against the windows. All is quiet despite the video playing on the computer screen. He felt a weight that seemed to say, you are not getting any sleep tonight, again. The room felt stuffy. The shadows seem to move slower than usual. Even the low hum of the air purifier sounded uneasy, like it knew something was off.
The man lay in bed with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling, shooting a glance every now and then at his dog who is fast asleep. Sleep should have come easily. He was tired. His body had earned rest. But it was not to be.
Thoughts trickled in. Then they rushed. All the small worries that came passing during the day suddenly decided to stop by again, this time not in a rush to go away. Did he forget to pay that bill? Was the dog going to cough tonight? Why did that that friend say what she said? Darkness made everything bigger.
Outside, a motorcycle tore through the silence of the night. He frowned but he was relieved the dog did not get up to bark his protest. The night deepened around him.
Hours passed like that. Restless. Uneasy. A mind pacing in circles.
But something changed near dawn.
The edges of the sky softened. The room brightened just enough to remind him that night, no matter how long it feels, no matter how dark it seems, always passes. The heaviness began to lift. His thoughts settled the way dust settles in calm air. He exhaled and felt the knot inside him loosen, if only a little.
He got out of bed very slowly, read his Bible, walked the dog. Then he came home to cook chicken for the dog. The world looked ordinary again. Manageable. The kind of morning that hinted, gently, that tonight might be kinder than the last.
The man stood at the door, holding his black coffee, watching the sky warm. He whispered a small promise to himself.
“Tonight, we try again.”
The night had not won. It had only passed through. And tonight’s sleep might come easier, softer, and without fear.
Leave a Reply