It’s just past two in the morning. The house is quiet, except for the furnace, a dull drone through vents. I am reading, but I am not alone. The bathroom switch is flipped, but there is no light. I wait. Continuing reading, some minutes pass until, again, a light switch flips, this time in the hallway. Still no light, just a game being played. I laugh, knowing at some point she’ll give up and go to bed.

However, she will not sleep. She’s too busy wondering what I am doing up at this God forsaken hour. And I speak to her silently, saying, who else would know of your antics if I was not awake. All is still again, the furnace still hums, but the light switches remain quiet. There are no footsteps, only a small voice of a child, saying good night. She likes it here and visits often. A comfort, in an often dark world, such as me.

And just when I think it’s safe, I hear her giggling. She knows she has gotten me out of bed to write. Perhaps that is her ruse all along. Perhaps, she is my muse. At least for this moment.

Authors Note: Some of you may remember this little girl.  I have written about her before, “A Tiny Voice“.  Her visits have become  more frequent and she no longer cries out.  In any case, she knows she keeps me on my toes.   🙂

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