Campfire Story

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I am a Nightwalker

I woke up early this morning, was it my husband’s, or did the snore belong to me? I was uncertain.  Was my daughter in her bed? I had not heard her come home.  Was my son doing OK? I was unsure, he was hours away, road racing. I could only be certain of one thing, it would be between 3:50 and 4:10 am, as I am a Nightwalker, and it is my time to rise. I groped around in the dark for my watch, 4:03 am.

Sometimes I try to deny my fate, close my eyes and will myself back to sleep.

Sometimes I get up straight away, resigned to my fate, plod down the hall to find a cosy spot.  The quiet cold air and change of scene sometimes soothes me back to sleep.

Sometimes I lie awake and stare into the blackness and imagine.

Sometimes I flip back the cover of my laptop and write.

Always I wake. Always I leave my bed.  I am a Nightwalker.

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