Diary of an Insomniac

He woke up at around 2:00 am.

He went to the sink to put a few drops

Of water directly and only on his eyes.

Enough to rinse the sleep out.

Not enough to too fully awaken .

He savoured this odd semi sleep state of mind,

Like he had one foot in reality,

And the other foot in some dream scape

Slaying dragons, or ravaging hungry women

Or laying siege to an ancient city

Face covered in blood and  sweat and mud

wielding a great sword swooping it in the air

like a girl twirling her marching  baton.

The words and tune from an old doo-wop song

Drifted through his head  inexplicably

A song he surly could not have heard for at least thirty or forty years.

“I want a brave man,

I want a cave man,

Johnny, Show me that you  really care,

Really care for me.“

The tune was light and danceable.

He thought for a moment, naturally.

Why that song?

There was no woman in his life,

No one recent at least,

No-one in particularly with this sort of issue

That came to mind.

Then it dawned on him.

It came crashing into his consciousness like

The top of huge Mack container truck

Having its roof Ripped off passing under

a low hanging bridge.

It was his ex wife, nearly twenty years separated

communicating telepathically.

That was kind of her thing,

A sort of benevolent necromancy.

Casting spells. To put it as benignly as possible.

Technically, necromancy is communication with the dead.

So maybe she just got his address wrong.

Or, maybe, ok, well, let’s not go there.

It was for sure her.

He’d bet money on it.

It was just  like her, to engage in that sort of thing.

That had been part of the problem as he recalled.

The way she was raised.

The passive aggressive conjuring.

That is a story for another time.

It was an absolute certainty

He determined, finally.

Derek Earl Houghton