2am and on. Sitting straight for a few seconds. Telling shadows from ghosts by which of these disappear on closer look. Opening windows a bit, to let some night float through. And seeking a route back to sleep.

10pm. Slow stop. Chores, minimal, a cold shower. A book and pen, just in case. Access to the full story somehow not granted, not working at all today. Watching the cat observe the invisible, because evenings are what they are and after all someone's just got to do. Conclusions, two lines in that mental log. Horns of a distant train. A moth and a single star, to complete things. Have a kind night wherever you are.)