I remember pulling back curtains and staring out over a strange city, seeing people in the streets. Heels on wet pavement. Then the laughter faded away. It was that strange time between night and morning, and I, big surprise, I was having trouble sleeping.
I rested my forehead against the glass and suddenly felt that the time on the clock didn’t matter. The minutes, the seconds, the hours would just keep dragging on.
Insomnia or just trouble sleeping? I wasn’t really certain. I just knew I was too stressed to sleep, too tired to do anything else but worry about the sleep I wasn’t getting.
The moment time slows, you aren’t sure if you’ve somehow stumbled on some strange reality. You’re really aware of where you are. Your skin, every whisper of the night, every shift the wind takes.
I closed the curtains and let the laughter fade. Time went back to normal, for just the moment. I wonder what it says, that I still remember that moment. Maybe my brain’s just telling me to get more sleep.
Or maybe, in its own way, it was beautiful.