I'm sitting in the dark. The sun is set, the fading light on the horizon is all purple, almost orangey purple down on the treetops. It looks so soft, like I could reach my hand up and stroke the sunset, and although I know the features on the houses across the street I can only see the silouette. Black, against the velvet.

I am the last one awake. This is usual. My children are snug in bed, my husband turned in an hour ago. I might be up for the next three hours. Insomnia is haunting me again, and even though every night I'm doing my breathing exercises and relaxation I can't fall asleep. Eventually the body and brain just seem to shut off, only to snap awake again at the slightest sound in the house. I've been sleeping with the white noise from our fan for too long now because I can hear around it to the sounds of our house. I just can't figure it out. When I wake up in the morniing I feel as though I've never gone to bed.

It's a cycle, of course, and I'm used to this one. It won't be so bad. I'm making my preparations for tomorrow tonight before I lay down- the kitchen cleaned, house picked up, eating surfaces swiped with disinfectant. Lunch has been made. Breakfast is poured out and in the fridge waiting for sunrise. It's peaceful here.

The velvet sky is dimming even further. Now it's just all blue-purple. Time to tuck myself in and wait for whatever lays in tomorrow for me. Good night.