Somewhere in the restless night, I left my bed and plodded out to sleep on the sofa. After twisting myself into a plush throw, I tried to force my way to sleep.
Nearly
an hour slipped by.
Counting
sheep doesn’t work for me. Imagining a
blank slate is impossible.
And
then I heard something.
At
my front door, I stationed a Presto electric parabolic heater. Rather than broadcasting heat by way of a
fan, a parabola-shaped reflective deflection plate on this heater radiates heat
out in many directions. The heater regularly
clicks on and off. When producing heat, the
red-hot element sings a soft metallic song.
The
heater hums, if you listen.
Lat
night, answering the brittle song of sub-zero temperatures outside, the heater
finally lulled me to sleep.
This
morning I woke to the strangely satisfying click and hum of the heater.
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