Inbetween Worlds

Yesterday I lay in bed, tossing and turning for a long time, and then I twisted into a fetal ball. I was shuddering and shivering for some strange reason. My body refused the rest it needed desperately. I am conserving emotion I tell myself. I try to think of the nonexistent monsters lurking under my bed. This was a prelude to all the nights to come. In returning insomnia spells, I lay staring up at the ceiling, then a little through the window at the pink sky.

My mind was wandering along passages strangely familiar in contorted alleys. I try to make sense of a falling darkness as it spills into the night wrapping everything in an impenetrable blackness. I feel cornered; stooping low I lie now in wait, in a land between sleep and wakefulness. Senses suspended, I slip finally into a restless slumber, relieved that I am now asleep.