I’m thinking about all that stuff that makes life so beautiful, like love, sleeping beside your lover, all kinds of sentimental crap.

Right now, I hear night sounds. I think they’re maybe bugs, and I don’t know if anyone else ever hears them, but when it’s night I hear them. I hear the bugs and the heat pump and occasionally the refrigerator. They are my night friends.

At night, when I was in my twenties, I would make plans with A, whom I would later marry. I don’t know what became of the plans, but our marriage fell apart, we divorced and she ended up dying of cancer.

And now that whole time haunts me.

Plans? What were we thinking? We didn’t know nothin’. But forty-plus years ago, at three o’clock in the morning, at least we weren’t lonely.