It’s 4 o’clock and you’re still awake. Not even the shopping channel is putting you to sleep tonight. You switch the television off.
Nursing a cup of warm milk you stand at the living room window and watch the street outside. It’s still dark, only the street lamps lighting the slight mist. You look closer – every light in every window in every house is off, including yours. You stand there, the roughness of the curtain fabric against your bare legs, watching the nothing outside, and sip your milk.
In the near distance a cat screeches and next door’s feral tom – Samson – calls back. Bloody cat, you sneer, should be locked up, but still you shudder. Secretly, you’re a little afraid of that cat.
Down, not yet in sight, you hear a truck murmuring along the road. You look at the VCR: yep, 4.15, right on time. The engine slowly becomes louder and soon the street becomes bathed in the oncoming high beams. A little too bright; you shade your eyes as the truck rumbles closer. As it passes you notice there’s a young man in the passenger seat. “He’s new,” you say to no one in particular.
The street is now coloured red from the rear lights and you watch and listen as the truck continues on its way – its engine becoming softer, its lights becoming fainter. Soon everything in the street is how it was just a few minutes before – silent and dark.
And you are still awake.
12 to go …