When he was born he didn’t sleep. His mother went insane and slept under neighbors’ cars, in garbage cans, slept with the elderly, the dying and the children. After she died, he began to sleep. And he had wonderful dreams where he flew, swam, rode big wheels and found friends just like him.
When he woke up, all he wished was that he could go back to sleep. In bed, the clouds and bad dreams stayed away. But when awake, there was nothing but earthquakes and horror. There was nothing he could control.
Eventually after his father passed away watching television, he was free to sleep as long as he wanted. He could stay in bed when he was awake and then wait to fall asleep again.
He painted the house the colors he saw in his dreams. Bright blue, a shy white that removed all the…
View original post 335 more words