Selected Cronicas

AS YOU SLEEP

There is something different about tonight. It is three o’clock in the morning. I am having one of my bouts of insomnia. I made myself some coffee since sleep seemed unlikely. I put in too much sugar and the coffee tasted horrid. I can hear the waves beating against the shore. Tonight is different because as you sleep I am talking to you. I break off, go out on to the terrace, look down on to the street, the long, narrow strip of beach and the sea. It is dark. So dark. I think of my favourite people: they are all asleep or out enjoying themselves. Some of them might even be drinking whisky. My coffee tastes even sweeter and becomes quite undrinkable. The night turns darker. I am sinking into painless melancholy. It is not so bad. Only to be expected. Tomorrow I might experience some happiness, not exactly ecstasy, just happiness. And that is not so bad either. True, but I am scarcely enjoying my pact with humdrum existence.