In the Middle of the Night

Don't mind me that I'm awake.

Bad dreams have forced me from my warm bed to take solice in sitting here, my eyes squinting from the brightness of the screen to bring this special moment to you.

What was it all about again? The details are growing fuzzy, but I do recall being locked in someone's basement, banging on the pipes with a metal hanger trying to see the little sparrow that was whistling outside the window. All the while hearing the scraping of furniture moving about overhead, as I try desperately to escape.

I've got to wonder if there's any other reason to wonder why I'm up ... You got to just love nights like these.