I was lying awake last night, trying to prove to myself that a capital L was the right way around.
I have these moments sometimes - especially when tired. Lower case Qs look weird and other-wordly, the number 3 switches places with an epsilon character and I can't figure out whether it's 'occasion' or 'ocassion' - which now that I write it down in the cold light of day, looks ridiculous.
It was getting on for 3am. I've not a had night that bad for a while, but yesterday, worry was seeping in like the thick black darkness in my room.
Looks like I need that invisible armour. Come to think of it, I could do with some real armour too. And maybe a tank. Oh I'd love a tank. I could slide in, unseen, clank shut the hatch and crunch everything in my way.
I'd growl and whoop and holler inside that cockpit. Like a wild-man I'd fling levers around and swivel the gun, shouting and growling madly. Then I'd grind the gears and ram stuff into rubble with an insane grin.
Except.
I wouldn't do any of that would I. Not really. It troubled me in the small hours that I'd thought of that.
I'm much more of a hand-to-hand combat fighter. Clearly my thoughts get the better of me and when everyone I know is asleep, the whispers start inside my head.
But those moments are my battlefields - and in truth, I have everything I need without going crazy in a tank.
L faces right, obviously.
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