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My mind yearns for sleep so innocently it refuses the perverse truth of my relentless bladder that threatens me with wetting the bed if I don’t get up to pee three or four times a night, my achy old knee can find no comfortable position, my badly designed nostril-sinus apparatus wants to smother me or else murder me by way of sleep apnea. Nightmares mostly leave me alone now that I’m nearly eighty, but fears and worries replaced them--my retirement funds have disappeared, my credit cards are lost, the furnace is about to break, the pipes will freeze, some bad kids want to hurt my grandchildren, my wife has finally realized what a loser I am, she’ll call a lawyer today, the coffee maker will explode, and oh God we’re probably out of milk.
David Huddle’s books include My Surly Heart (LSU, 2019).
Copyright 2020 David Huddle
Wait a minute in the middle of the night the indeterminate, indiscriminate demons do try to take hold but I tell them to get lost. And mostly they do. Pamela
Pamela’s blogshttp://www.familyandfiction.com http://www.bettehutchisonsilver.wordpress.com
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This I can relate to.
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Me too, Allison!
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Yikes, it happens to all of us, David. Even us metaphors. If I were an actual person, I am sure I would feel it even more.
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Thanks, Sidney!
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Brilliant!!! My 78 year old partner identifies with every single word here!!!! xxoo
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