insomnia in suburbia: stone #24

Lying awake in the dead hours I feel like the last person on earth. Husband away, no rise and fall of shallow breathing beside me. I move to the window and pull the curtain aside. The street is empty; not a cat or a fox to watch. All is quiet. No drone of engines, sirens and helicopters. No all night party beats. No drunken staggering, no cans rattling along the pavement. The city was never like this.