awake

Green. Green walls awash in a muted green glow. Green is symbolic of renewel, health, growth. Green is envy and jealousy. Green is harmony and balance. 

The small winking green light on the smoke alarm just outside the bedroom door flashes every 10 seconds. At first I kept thinking it was lightning. I listened for the accompanying rumble of thunder but the quiteness pressed down like a veil. Like clockwork. 6 times every minute. 120 times every hour it winked, a sentinel keeping watch over this slumbering house. 

The green numbers on the small clock radio beside my head display 1:47. There is a halo of green that surrounds her head beside me. It's from the small green charge light on the phone. The First breathes deeply, evenly. I lie so still that I can feel the comforter rise and fall with each breath. I try to match my breathing with hers. It is a faint hope that syncopation will hasten the edges of sleep that has remained tantalizingly out of reach, closer and closer. It has evaded me for the last few hours, flitting away like an annoying fly with each desperate lunge. 

I can barely make out the fan blades overhead as they rotate silently on abundantly greased bearings in the luminous green light. Scattered thoughts keep me company. The solace of her warmth is like an extra blanket. But it is the breath of sleep that I desire the most. Harmony & balance between the enveloping arms of sleep and my woman.