2:52am.
I can’t sleep. I’m sat in the kitchen typing this by the light of the laptop’s monitor. My legs have been itching like crazy – aftersun, freshly chilled from the fridge has put out the itching for the moment, but I still can’t sleep.
The window is open, mozzie grille up, and the back garden and beyond are flooded with moonlight. The crickets provide a constant background noise like static, punctuated by the calling of frogs. Once in a while a dog starts barking frantically, then another starts howling like an air raid siren. The crocodiles in the back garden stir occasionally, splash into the water, or groan a deep, reverberating groan. About ten minutes ago two gunshots rang out and echoed around somewhere, and thunder came from the west about twenty minutes ago. Someone is talking somewhere.
The noises here could drive you insane if you let them.
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