Night owls don't dance.

Every night I look at the clock and think I should be in bed right now sleeping. But of course I don't. There's something I'm refusing to let go of. I dunno. The dark. The silence. The void. The couch all to myself and whatever's left in the fridge. I dunno what it is. Some part of me.

I wrote a whole paragraph trying to figure it out and deleted all the nonsense. Only one sentence remained. And I couldn't stop my eyes. Because I knew it was true.