La première nuit
It is the first night, he can not sleep. After hours of lying still and many attempts to induce sleep, he gives up on trying to sleep. He looks at the clock, it reads 4am. He is thinking, it is too early to be up, he was hoping to have been woken up by the alarm he had set. It will not sound for another three hours. It is more than just adjusting to the time difference, it is more than the uncomfortable breeze being produced by the fan next to his bed or adjusting to the bed itself, he concludes. He is feeling anxious, anxious to start the day but he is also feeling alone, he admits. He is playing out a thousand scenarios in his head, some of which frankly make him uneasy, but others bring a smile to his face and happy memories of times past. It all seems familiar and strange to him at the same time. He finds it comforting to be up at this ungodly hour and to be fully engaged in his thoughts as he is now. Yet time seems to pass in an ever unrelenting slow pace. He looks ...