It had been a couple of months now since insomnia had taken over his life (again), and as usual he hopelessly spent the first week rolling around the bed in hopes of defeating insomnia and catching some rest. It didn't work.
One hot humid night while he was lost in his thoughts and the cigarette smoke, he saw some bright lights across the river lighting up in sequence from left to right, turning that gloomy building into a bright spot.
"What the fuck could that be?" he thought to himself.
He lived in a very quiet neighbourhood, everything was closed after ten and by midnight you would never see a soul outside. It was now 2:30 in the morning and he felt intrigued, what could that be? This thought was quickly lost while his mind drifted away following the spirals of smoke emerging from his cigarette. He stayed like this until the sun started to rise, the warmth on his face brought him back from this trance. It was then when he felt the strike of hunger; he walked to the fridge only to find it empty.
Several nights he spent in the same manner, same ritual, same thoughts. On the seventh night the lights turned right on schedule and a weird red light shone in the very center, it seemed to be directed at him.
"Weird," he thought to himself while sipping the last of his green tea.
"I should get another one"
He took his orange bicycle down the elevator, briefly glancing at his reflection in the elevator mirror.
"I should get some sleep," he thought to himself when noticing the dark eye-bags that probably had been on his face for weeks.
