Good Night

All I want is one good night. One morning when I wake up rested. One day when I don’t feel exhausted by everything I do. I could have that if you would come by my place and remove the 3 dogs who live here. Somewhere there is someone who would love 3 yippy dogs. Just not right here. Please.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “good night.”

Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “Good Night”

  1. For twenty-odd years she had to listen to his loud snoring noises. Then it seemed things might improve and the opportunity for a good night was on the horizon. He was diagnosed with sleep apnea. After a teeny bit of training he arrived home with a CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) machine. It fit on the nightstand easily enough but looked like a deformed elephant’s head with a long gray hose at the end of which was a head apparatus to fit onto his noggin maintaining the oxygen flow to his nose and mouth. New problem – aside from looking like something from outer space: this had a new sound to irk her. The sound was the rhythmic inflow of air. “Whoosh/wheeze, whoosh/wheeze.” Then there might be a gurgle or two here and there. Next, he could always be counted on to have a nightmare and wake her up with his frightening yelling. When she suggested they sleep in separate rooms he vetoed that strongly. So, as was her way, she gave in and is still not getting a good night’s sleep. He never understood the problem he created by interrupting her sleep. She was always fatigued. She was irritable. She yearned to be alone. She’d kill for a good night. Ssshhhhh, don’t tell anyone she’d do that.

    1. Her good night of sleep came at last when she, reluctantly, was tested and determined to have sleep apnea just like his. She learned that she was always in such a disturbed sleep state that she heard every noise and was irritated especially if they came from him. With her own machine and mask whispering, she slept soundly for the first time in years. Nothing she could do about his nightmares, though. She said she knew what she was getting into by marrying a combat vet, but she was so wrong about what her “love” could cure.

  2. Night time was nightmare time. None of them were “good”.
    You just waited , with bated breath , for it to begin .
    The groaning , the moaning , the calling , the howling .
    Once , it started , you pull your quilt over your ears and wait for it to stop.
    “Good night ” , no such thing .
    After a few minutes , you are out . Out of the warm quilt , out of the bed , either racing in anger , muttering curses , or just plain shoulder -drooping resigned . She wouldn’t sleep . Just wouldn’t. All the sedatives of the world would merely slur the speech , not silence it . One would wonder what the neighbours would think. But they were sweet , or deaf .
    If screams were not answered , She would grab the bell by its neck , and keep ringing it , long after you had appeared at her bedside , scowling , and with feet frozen . The help would be squirming on her bed , in an attempt to get up , and answer.
    Mostly , it would be something on the lines of ” I need to pee” , which one answered , glumly , mechanically , “You are on a urinary catheter,” sometimes dangling the urine bag , partly filled with pee , in front of her rheumy eyes . At other times , she would want to know the time , “go to the loo”( for lack of some thing to do ) , ask to be given a bath (at 2a.m. in the night ) . At some rare moments , She would ask you to cover her up, and say sorry .

    Either way , your night was screwed , and you could as well keep awake , lathi in hand , and guard the colony , like the night-watchman . It was a life worse than that . A terrible fate. You had to get up in the morning and see kids off to school , cook food , clean , read , live . None of this mattered to the old woman , she slept during the day , to rouse the household , rattle every brick with her howlings ,come nightfall.

    Good night , indeed.

An open space for your story

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: