Warning: Author is dweeb academic type who does not normally do “creative writing.” She apologizes in advance for any tedium. Thanks Mr. Meat, this is great.
I don’t sleep. Even when I was a kid I was up at three in the morning staring at the ceiling. During the summer I stayed with my grandparents on an isolated farm in the Western Nebraska scrub. My grandmother didn’t sleep either. We would lay on her bed in the still hours and she would read the comics to me while my grandfather slept in the recliner he passed out in at eight o’clock. Continue reading
