I’ve woken early this morning. When I opened my eyes, the bedside clock informed me that it was 4.57am. I know why I’ve woken; my bladder is becoming more insistent as I get older. I’ve had to cut out my evening coffee in recent months; otherwise, I’d be making toilet visits much earlier than this. This morning, I resist getting up as long as I can. The toilet light switch is connected to the exhaust fan and the noise is likely to wake Marilyn which would not be fair. I could, of course, go through to the other toilet but that’s a bit too much trouble and I’d have to put lights on to help me find my way.
It's not light yet. No street lights reach our little corner of the world, but I can see the faint glow of the night light in the hallway. There’s very little noise. I did hear the noise of one car in the distance; probably someone with an early start or coming home from a late shift. If I strain my ears I can just make out the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Maybe there’s also the faint sound of birds chirping somewhere close by.
The word ‘susurration’ pops into my head: something to do with the sound of birds or the wind or something. I’ll have to look it up. There’s no sound of wind, though but maybe it could be raining gently.
Another thought impinges: a little bit of poetry. ‘Night, and the something, something of candlelight.’ I’ll have to look that up too.
I can’t put this off much longer. It’s still early so, if I make my toilet trip soon, I’ll be able to get back to bed and maybe sleep for another hour or so. Marilyn will probably be getting ready for her own first toilet visit soon, anyway. I’m glad it’s not winter and the house is not cold.
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