I Slept

I was tired of snoring. I was tired of sleeping, but I know you can't avoid sleeping. When I slept, if I wasn't snoring, I was sweating. Thin or thick blankets produced sweat, hot or cold, it didn't make a difference. I would wake up from time to time, and I was scared I would see a ghostly figure in the door. I saw a ghostly figure by the closet, but this was a robe. Sleeping again, I didn't know where I was, in the house or the flat. I'd look for a window, and it was a wall, I'd look at for a chest of drawers with a painting on it, and see a television and a mirror. A voice told me quietly, never write with red ink, it is unlucky to do so. I agreed. I slept.