Bed

 

A Good Night's Sleep


......I never would have thought one person could make so much noise. It's enough to bring the walls down. Listen to him: he sounds like a pig. A styful of pigs. A whole farmyard of pigs. A vast, seething, milling herd of pigs.
......Do pigs herd? I don't know. I don't care, that's what he sounds like. The biggest herd of pigs ever assembled.
......All I want is a good night's sleep, just one glorious night's sleep. Is it too much to ask for? Answer me that. Is just one good, peaceful night's sleep too much to ask for?
......What time is it? Only half-past twelve: hours to go before morning. Every night it's the same: watching the clock tick over; counting the minutes away; listening to his terrible snoring.
......Oh God, listen to that row. I've nudged him and kicked him, shouted and cursed at him but it makes no difference: he just grunts and groans, pauses for a while, then the concert starts again.
......One o'clock: only a half hour since I last looked. I just knew it was going to be a long night as soon as he said, "Just popping out for a couple of pints, love, won't be long." Course it was hours before he returned, it always is. He's always worse when he's been drinking. He had more than a couple of pints too, that's for sure. The way he staggered in it was more like a couple of gallons. Drunken sod!
......Twenty-past one. I daren't talk to him about it. If I try to he swears blind he doesn't snore. He's getting very touchy lately. He was really nasty the last time I mentioned it - I'm almost sure he was going to hit me.
......Five to two. Oh no! He's rolled over onto his back - the decibel level will really go up now. There it goes! It's a wonder he doesn't bring the ceiling crashing down on our heads - I'm sure I can hear the plaster cracking.
......Twenty-past two. All I want is a little sleep, just a little blessed sleep. I just cannot stand this much longer. Please let me sleep.
......Twenty-five to three. This is horrible. My body's crying out for rest: my head is throbbing; my nerves are all jangling; I can't think straight any more.
......Three o'clock. Doesn't he realise I've had a hard day too; that I need my sleep as well? Got to do something, I'm getting desperate. No, no, please no more. That's it - I've had enough. The pillow... Put it over his face: his big, fat, snoring face. There, hold it down, press tight. He's so hard asleep, he doesn't even know what I'm doing. Press harder, harder. Harder than that, I've just got to make him stop snoring. Harder. Not long now.
......There, that's stopped him.
......Oh the peace! The quiet, the tranquillity. This is beautiful, delicious, wonderful. It's so quiet. Listen... Not a sound, nothing but silence. Beautiful silence. Now I can close my eyes and sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep.
......Twenty to four. It's so quiet - too quiet. Is it always like this at this hour? There's not a sound anywhere: it's like the whole world has stopped. It's so eerie. I don't like it: I never knew there was so much silence. How can anybody get to sleep in this awful quietness?

Copyright Scorpio Tales 1996. All rights reserved.


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