A short story by Grant Davis
The clock was ticking unbearably loudly. So loud that I was certain it
was keeping me awake. This was nonsense as I had had the clock in the
bedroom for many years and had not been aware of its relentless, almost
silent progress, marching through the night-time hours till the alarm clock
sounded. But tonight I had insomnia. Not that I was an inveterate sufferer
of the complaint which divides the world into those that face life renewed
each day and those who make sluggish progress from their bed, resenting the
wasted night hours and dreading the day. But sometimes it would take me
unawares and tonight was such a night. The grind of trying to reach sleep
during such episodes was tiring in itself; the exercises, meditation and
other quack remedies were proving fruitless. I looked at the illuminated
figures of the clock; three oh five a.m. and not a hint of slumber. Not the
faintest suggestion of reprieve until Sonia came in from the bathroom . . .
You can read more by buying the book as a Kindle download from Amazon.