As I backed my car into my narrow garage, the walls looked different. Was it higher? Was it closer? A faint headache seemed to rise at the back of my head. Blaring its presence. The walls whimpered, and I climbed the stairs. Every single dark stain shivered.

I let the water from the shower rinse everything off. Wrapping myself in the hot water, I breathed deeply. But it was seemingly different. A pit inside me felt anxious and fearful. Of possibility, of fear, of failure. My door seemed to waver. Was that a doorbell? Chiming three times? Was it my ears yearning for familiarity? Images pass through my mind. I blink, and they skitter away. A dullness settles over my eyes.

Sleep roars it gentle head. But insomnia is so much bigger. It engulfed me last night, and I hope that it is locked up tonight.