Perhaps a Case of Insomnia

Night. It's a whole other world. The time where reality and fantasy weave together in fancy, irregular patterns. Waking moments become dreams and dreams become living days. Nightmares force the mind to twist and turn. Insomniacs ponder the meaning of life. Artists are creating. They paint the picture of this world. Pens scribble words across the paper. Notes and chords echo through the calm, stale air. Older men and women sit up. Grab a cuppa and a snack. Nostalgia waterfalls pour over them. The masks fall away. Curtains are ripped off to reveal the truths. Long talks. Long walks. Meaningless moments do not exist. Questions pour out from hearts and souls. Lovers meet in a whirl of passion and fire. Guarded women turn men out once the night falls. Others turn tricks at the end of the street. Cash slides from one hand to another in exchange for an elixir of survival. Empty, glass bottles tossed aside. Children dream their innocence. Drunks stumble through past the threshold. The homeless shiver and huddle. And some, some lay snug in their warm, safe beds. Shielded from this alternate universe. Oblivious to it.