Yet again, sleep eluded me.
Once I was done acknowledging the presence my daily visitors, the thoughts that come and go unabashedly,
I remembered the walnut cake lying in the refrigerator.
The detachment that I faked when I left it unfinished must have crushed its hopes.
Feeling guilty, I stepped into the kitchen to check on it.
But something stopped me on the way.
The bright yellowness of a streetlight not so far trickled through the condensate settled on the kitchen window.
"You will have to cry yourself to sleep tonight", I whispered to the walnut cake and crouched on the floor.
The canvas of a moisture-laden curtain was ready to be scribbled upon.
A rose bud, a cup of steaming hot coffee, a spool of tangled up thread or just simple chaos...
Staring at them fade and disappear, I nudged sleep, which had finally sneaked in and was sitting close to me.
"Shall we go now?"
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