5 am. Insomnia.
I awake from a dream of dirty glasses, crayfish, frogs. We have visitors. Will they want to stay, knowing the state of our glassware?
We’ve moved houses. Not because we wanted to. Because we had to. We failed to notice the house was within spitting distance of a busy train track.
It’s windy outside. Not in a dream. For real. The trees murmur.
And there’s an irritating drone somewhere in the neighbourhood. An apartment fan perhaps. With a worn bearing.
We’re the other side of Woden’s Day. The outcome of the battle is uncertain.
Thor wants a piece of the action now. He wields his hammer in the dawn.
Sorry about the dirty glasses.
I hope you’ll come back when we’ve tidied up.
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Not insomnia induced, but I certainly had a horrid sleep last night too due to that darned wind.
I think it was probably the wind that woke me up around 3:30. After that, I couldn’t get back to sleep.
It seems unnaturally quiet now.
Blaming the passage of time on a deity cannot be good for your soul! Your insomnia is probably due to your radical adversarial nature, big steve has file on you. A dyslexic agnostic with insomnia laying awake, wondering if there is a dog.
Lee, I’m sure you are correct in all your observations, especially regarding the existence of the “Big Steve File.” I am most unrepentant on that point.
But today is FrÄ«Ä¡edæġ (“Frigg’s day”) so I’ll just say frigg it and continue on my way.
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