Night Owling

Rambling thoughts of a lifelong insomniac.

I’ve been padding around the house in the middle of the night as long as I can remember, and definitely as young as five.

I love the middle of the night. I love the crazed energy of a second wind — when everything is quiet. It feels OK to have heightened senses and chronic hypervigilance. I am alone, slipping in and out of silky shadows.