In a house, hearing noises, seeing lights, with no warm bodies to touch – neither wife nor cat – a mood sets in.

Do I only accept terms and phrases like “God’s Plan,” “coincidence,” “fate” and “destiny” when I feel I have little or no part in an activity or outcome?

What if all I want is to sit here, write, and have a warm sleeping companion?

What calendrical day is it?

If all rituals are bunk, with whom do I bunk when my bunkmate is unavailable?

No anti/stimulants to change my mood.

The silence of tinnitus to tune out the world.

Vulnerability of sleep to comfort me.

At peace with a peace that is my piece of the universe.

Was the Russian princess who never was named Anastasia?

Paint a poster board with glowing paint and watch the stars shine brightly in a darkened room, vivifying dreams.

Potato soup and bread pudding – a hospital dietician is a chef in a food pyramid fantasy.

Can a painter draw blood?

Thanks to Robert and Naomi at Walmart; Pal’s Sudden Service; Hawkins County EMS; the Testermans; Kay’s Classic ice cream…

…getting sleepy…zzzzz