On an ice box winter night I lay hunched up in my bed like a fetus while the snow-screened television radiates the National Anthem and then a monotone buzz followed by that annoying static sound signifying early morning when there aren�t any more syndicated shows or old movies to watch, but I can�t wake up to turn it off. Still I�m not really asleep or I wouldn�t notice that inane noise bugging me more than a mosquito near my ear on a steamy summer afternoon when the sweat beads at the ends of my clumped hair before dripping onto sunburnt shoulders, but I can�t open my eyes and reach over to the little knob that will save my sanity. Never mind. There�s no need to because it�s too late�the sun is rising and so must I.
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