I don’t get it. Something woke me up, but I don’t hear anything.

I mean nothing. Quiet. There’s no sound at all, just the bathroom fan, because if I turn that light out it’s black and I can’t see to get to the bathroom, but any other light shines straight in my eyes, and the fan has no switch of its own. Just as well; kinda smells in there.

I wonder what woke me…

…Oh! It’s the silence! The air conditioner must have finally stopped running. Funny, it’s been going full blast all day, and now that it’s… Right, it gets cold here at night. Makes sense. Air conditioner runs more when it’s hot out.

Guess that explains why it’s so damn cold in here. Augh! Freezing! Where’d I put that robe…? …slippers…

pad pad pad
…
flush
water
pad pad pad

God, what time is it? …Yep, two o’clock. Wouldn’t be so bad if I had something to write about, but that well’s evidently run dry. Not even dreaming here, it’s so cold. Just lovely restful sleep, except… well, except when I don’t, I guess.

Maybe I should get some cold pizza, something to drink. Not gonna sleep anyway, and dinner was… well, not bad, not really, but not exactly filling. Next hotel, I buy some damn ramen. Sure, it’s just empty calories, but it’s filling, warm and comforting. I could use a little of that.

Doomscroll for a bit… nothing new. Student riots, just like every election year. It’s a wonder nobody in the media has noticed and made mention of it. Then again, perhaps they’d get branded as cynical — as though the fomentors of discord aren’t.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m sure it’s a good cause. The world is full of good causes, which is why discord is so easily fomented…

Maybe I’ll read for a bit. It’s been years since I last read this one, mysteries by Asimov. Lovely intellectual puzzles, every one of them.

Bah! Too cold in here to read. Next time, I order one of those fleece blankets online, here to meet me at the door. I’ll make some mint tea instead. Faithful old Proctor-Silex, my one indulgence. Two pounds, and that’s with my own oversized mug. I’m the envy of the breakfast room every morning, and the only one with Earl Grey. Nearly caused a riot yesterday.

Hmm… breakfast. How long to breakfast? Three and a half hours. Lord, it’s cold in here. Wonder if I could sleep…

…

What in Hell–?!

That’s a damn mockingbird, at four in the bloody morning! Black as the pit outside, and there he is, singing. Must have built his nest in the lighted sign or something. Damn fool bird; hope it dies of insomnia.

Can you die of insomnia?

---

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