Thursday, December 17, 2009

Interlude

I get up in the middle of the night, most nights, to go to the bathroom. A habit of middle age, I am certain, but I find myself enjoying it, savoring the moment each night. I awake with scraps of dreams in my head. Get out from under the covers. The soft hardwood of the bedroom under my feet shifts to the heavy pile of the hallway carpet, then the cold tile of the bathroom. As I pee my dreams are already disappearing, like fine sand sifting through the gaps between my fingers. I finish, pad back, tile to carpet to hardwood, walking between worlds, between dreams and waking life. I crawl back under the blankets, chilled by the night air. I press myself against the warmth of my wife's back, relax, return to sleep. The alarm rings and I awake from dreams, only to give myself to them once again at the end of the day.

7 comments:

ArtSparker said...

Is this a series? This seems related to the last one, comfort being the counterpart to a disturbance. Sweet paragraph.

meno said...

Mmmm. The best part is the warm body to slide next to when you get back to bed.

Laurita said...

It's like leading a double life. I like that thought.

Gordo said...

I get beaten if I snuggle up to her when I'm chilled. ;-)

Hilary said...

I only have one question.. on behalf of that warm, welcoming back. Did you put the seat back down?

Clowncar said...

Nope, Art. Only connected by my state of mind these days.

The warm body is easily the best part, meno.

Well put, Laurita. It's like the dreams are a great ocean, and my waking life is a small boat floating upon it.

Bummer, Gordo.

Yes, Hil! I do! Yay for me!

Lux Star Cake said...

well said