One minute I was sitting out in my office, working on some tweets, and the next I woke up, staring at a black screen.
I thought we’d lost power.
No, I’d been asleep for a long time.
To be honest, I’m worn out. It’s going to be the end of the year soon, and a time when it’s supposed to be for relaxation, go on holidays, do something else, because I’m finding life is getting more and more hectic.
Yes, I think I’ll go away somewhere, but at the same time I’ll be subconsciously looking for new locales for stories, the people, the places, what goes on, all different to my usual humdrum.
So, not a holiday in the true sense of the word.
What put me into this trance-like state was writing the next line, yep, it was as simple as that. I stopped at a particular point where I had something else to say, and it just felt like the train had come to the end of the track, out there, in the middle of nowhere.
I wrote that line in my mind, and it sounded good, much the same as we sometimes say something in our mind before we speak, and when we finally do, it sounded better in my head than out loud.
Perhaps I’m losing my touch.
Perhaps that ability to sum up everything I want to say in less than 200 characters is beginning to desert me, and old age and decrepitude is setting in.
Which reminds me, pills before bed.
Perhaps I’m just tired and it’s time to go to bed.
I keep putting it off because sometimes I can’t go to sleep and I’m just lying there staring at the ceiling, sometimes the cinema of my dreams.
I imagine I’m somewhere else, someone else, doing something else.
But not in a helicopter. Not tonight. Nor in Hong Kong, in the middle of world war two, chasing and being chased by bad guys, or on a treasure hunt.
Tonight it’s going to be a sinking ship.