Sometimes I go to sleep too early, and with too much on my mind. Then 3am comes, and I wake with unquiet ghosts clustering around the room.
They stare at me, wordless accusations in their hollow eyes and terrible grimaces. Did you make the right choices, they ask? Have you done all you can? Are you leaving the world better than you found it?
A freight train moans through the distance; a car’s bass thumps an unrecognizable beat. The spirits move on, leaving their unanswered questions draped around my bed as a veil, and taking with them any hope of rest.