Waking After Midnight

… the third train has gone by… there's one about every twenty minutes…  it’s no use, counting trains won’t help me get back to sleep. I might as well get up for a while. I wonder if the feral cats are kept awake by the sounds of the freight train's horn, each driver with his own signature call blasting only a few blocks away from those critters in their little hideaways. My mind starts to wander with the sound of the rail cars rumbling over the tracks, back to thoughts of the previous day; and then to thoughts of people far away, some are already well into their day, others just beginning their night’s repose.

Through it all a vague sense of being out of my body, my freed soul roaming the earth and searching…