I’ve decided that if I ever want to write a novel I’ll have to do all my writing in the middle of the night.
I’ve discovered that’s when my imagination is most active. Sounds that would mean nothing during the day suddenly take on a whole new meaning when it’s dark and mostly quiet.
We must have had our electricity meter read within the last day or so and even though we have a note asking the meter reader to make sure our meter box is closed properly, they sometimes don’t quite get the idea, so on a windy night, like last night, the door swings open then bangs shut.
Amazing how that simple noise suddenly becomes someone trying to break in or someone about to switch off our power or even just a cat clambering loudly over our fence.
It took me a few moments to realise what it was last night before I drifted off to sleep again only to be woken by it a few more times over a number of hours. I know that I could have just got up and fixed it but once I’d realised that it wasn’t anything serious, my bed and sleep seemed very much more appealing.
It’s sorted now so I should get a bit more sleep tonight.
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