He couldn’t sleep.
It was too hot.

He had to keep a glass of water by the bed.

The sound of the Nightingale
was anything but a lullaby.

He had developed sensitivity to light,
and would wake up at the smallest morning sunray-
a tiring wake up call.

He bought an eye mask
and foam ear plugs,
finally able to cut himself off from the world.

He was able to sleep.

He didn’t hear his alarm in the morning.

When he awoke,
he stretched,
and knocked over the glass of water.