Lullaby.

Everyone wants to sleep better. Get into bed, feel skin wrapped around covers and head nested in pillow, think a single happy thought and wake after dreams made to talk about.

In or out of time zones there’s someone struggling completely right now. She’s worried herself into such a tangle of worries that she can’t even remember the first, or where it led, or where that led until her tangled maze of loosely related problems rolls into only one. A lack of sleep and no direction to it. Perhaps if she thinks about it a little more she’ll get there.

It’ll be a week ago. On the television, on the radio in the car, in an article in the newspaper or passed on by a friend. Fool proof directions for sleep. A series of thoughts to think up an instant cure for sleeplessness.

You’ll shrug them off, but soon notice the world getting quiet, the hum of traffic taper, telephone calls stop. Peace on earth. You’ll be in bed, feeling those covers wrapped around your skin, your head nested in pillow as you think your single happy thought. You’ll think “I can do this alone” but that invokes trying and trying is no good here. You’re twisting, flicking through methods as you drift closer to your target without even realising. Counting, imagining nothing… fail upon fail upon fail.

The sun’s coming up like the morning’s the enemy. You could always try it. The wrongs feel smothered by the sheets so you do. Just for a bit. Only the first part. You can always stop. Step away. A bit more? Think it’s clearly not working. You might as well finish it now. Two more items on the list. Two more thoughts and you…

Who’s going to wake us?