Slumber's repose

The house is quiet. The only noise heard is the whining whirl of the computer and the tapping of the keyboard. Though, listening closer, the slight sound of air being drawn in I can hear... 'tis Rev, my big old kitty keeping me company atop the desk. There too, I can detect the sounds of Terry's sleeping breaths... and the fountain like quality of the irksome fish tank in the living room... Ergo, not as quiet as I first thought.

Peaceful still.

Now I remember why I like the night, why I find it hard to sleep even when I may be truly tired. It is my time, borrowed from light and snatched whence I can find it. No one needs me, I do not need to rush, the time belongs to me. No meals to make, no chores to do, no talking, no arguing or fussing.

It is like an addiction I want back, a lover I can't give up. Oh, blissful quiet night, I miss our times together.