Rachel couldn’t stand the sound of her husband’s snoring every night, and even worse the questions he asked each time she would tell him about it; “Does it sound like this?” he would ask. Months later they adopted a dog, Morty, and Morty snored eactly like Rachel’s husband – “There you go, it sounds just like that!”
Then again, what made him spin? His head around his shoulders spun all night,spinning and rotating around the axis of his mind, a moon to earth, a moon with many craters, many craters indeed.
Its 2AM and i’m woken by the sounds of a girl crying. Im too scared to let her out.
I am awake since a long time now, half an hour, maybe more, but I don’t want to open my eyes, because if I do, I know that I will see her sat on the side of the bed.
Like every nights since her death…
Last night I went to sleep. I’m conscious but I can’t wake up.
“What are you doing?” someone asked. “Sleeping” I muttered back, not realising that I was home alone that night.
It was three in the morning when i opened my eyes. When i saw written on the wall “First one that moves dies!”
I wish you knew just how I feel, how you are the only thing on my mind all day, how much I love you, love the way you smell, the way you look when you sleep.
Some of these days I really should introduce myself to you.
While lying in bed trying to go to sleep, I heard my dog scratching my bedroom door. As I got up to let her in, I found her sleeping at the side of the bed.
in her dark room where she sleeps, she saw a pair of red light wich she thought a light from electronic devices.the light blinked.
When I look at the sun as it settles under the horizon, I feel the end has come and peace I shall find until the hour the sun rises. Just then I’ll be thrilled at the thought of the fresh unexplored time in front of these sleepy eyes of mine.
The bed sunk on his side when he threw back the sheets and stumbled toward the bathroom. Time passed, some indeterminable number of minutes in the thick fog of her unencumbered sleep, and the bed sunk again when he got back in bed, breathing hard, smelling sour, and feeling different when her hand brushed the stranger’s.
The first time I slept over, we were sober and did not make love. But in the morning, there was warm skin under the covers, then coffee, then trust.
It came to me in a dream. I’ve regretted ever since that I wasn’t sleeping at the time; it never came again.