sounds – don't confuse the narrator

three by three

I know London is not as quiet as the pueblo, but I didn’t expect to be woken at 7am on a Sunday. Then again, I’m glad I didn’t miss this scene:

It was the completely unexpected sound of hooves on asphalt that woke me – there must have been around fifty horses, and they made quite a noise. I have no idea where they were being taken or why. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.

insomnia

In A Far Cry from Kensington, Muriel Spark wrote:

the quality of insomnia depends entirely on what you decide to think of.

I don’t suffer from insomnia. Ever. I do have a few sleepless nights. And when I do, I tend to try and write poems in my head. The repetition is often just as effective as counting sheep.
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