Lonely tonight. There's this pale blue moon, not quite full, that stares at me through a curtain of heavy-lidded eyes. Fighting sleep, I fade from room to room, stumble on the cat who senses my restlessness and tries to soothe me with his summer fur. I eat a cup of tapioca pudding, a comfort memory from my childhood. It's toxic consumed in large quantities, but I suppose that holds true for many things.

Time ticked away too fast today. Where did it go? Does time really speed up as you get older? Or just become more  precious? This house was haunted when I came here but I chased the spirits away one by one. They were replaced by the ghost I am.

I do love the night, the first hours of morning and sunset. It's all too busy in between. Life dissected into peices,
mechanical and tied to machines. Now the hum of the fridge is all I hear. The crickets have returned, but their chant is subdued. There's a chill in the air. Maybe this makes them sleepy and less inclined to mate and the gentle rub of legs is to lull them to dreams...

(c) Linda Gayton 2006