I haven't seen anything with wonder in my heart for months. Two nights ago, while a cloud rolled over the mountain, the full moon did its best to cut through the shroud. Trees fell away into shallower and shallower gradations of deepest blue, and I finally looked up. Tonight, again, I saw something that stopped me dead. Far away beyond the closest ridge, a cloud caught the shallowing sun and scattered its light, a deep red smear on the smooth gradient of the sunset, hiding between hilltops on a distant horizon. I know the person I was walking with didn't know what was going in my head, but I can try to tell you.
I haven't slept like I know I should for two months. I haven't dreamed at all in that time. I woke up earlier than I wanted to hold people accountable. I fell asleep later because there was always more to do. And the last four nights running, I've been getting more than six and a half hours. I've been taking eight and a half. I've been dreaming. I've been alive.
Goodbye. I'm going to sleep, now.
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