Waking Too Early in Missoula

I wake to a dark room, attended by two red LEDs on a far wall.  I heard a child crying deep in the night.  Later—much later—I heard a man and a woman talking.  Their voices sounded like birds caught inside the walls.  At times, one of the birds flapped desperately in an attempt to escape.

My room is located at the end of a long hall that offers no light from outside.  I know there is an ancient river just outside, yet I cannot sense it.  I also know the name of the river, but the name has no meaning this early.  Even if I could see the river, it would now be black.

This early in the morning, I must be careful what I think.  Some thoughts have damaging claws and thoughts are not fully restrained at such an early hour.

So I fill my mind with a flock of sheep to occupy my thoughts.  Sheep waddling overtop a grassy knoll.  Pure white sheep.  An endless supply of silly sheep slowly pouring over the knoll and out of sight…

Suddenly the radio alarm scratches to life.  KC and the Sunshine Band.  Stupidly happy bastards. Only then do I recall the myriad reasons I never appreciated the music of KC and the Sunshine Band.

The claws are out.

--Mitchell Hegman