The Night Sighed With Relief

One of my short stories has kindly been posted by Mr Geras here. A nice pick-me-up following the inevitable post-NYC come-down. The short short story comp is announced and explained here. And for those tired of following links, here is the piece:

The night sighed with relief as he went to bed in the early hours. Despite the harrowing uproar created by the early-rising birds that haunted the trees outside his bedroom window, he could no longer keep his eyes open. Equally, he was unable to rudely interrupt and devastate the serene silence that usually pervaded the surrounding streets at five in the morning. For several nights he'd bawled his soul out, screaming for a higher power to strike him down. Although this was a new low, his fear of death prevented him from taking his own life and thus he prayed for a divine, ultimate intervention.

It was not to be, and he woke up the following afternoon feeling around 30 per cent alive, as if he had been sieved and then left to dry in the heat. Many areas of his body, his mouth, head, legs and stomach, felt as though they didn't belong to him, as if stolen from some undernourished, sickly fellow. His tongue... well, he would have liked to be able to feel it, or at least encounter some moisture. This had become a duty, an obligation to himself that he had to fulfil regardless of the circumstances. He wasn't sure when it was going to end, and even if he could control the end. He was certain, however, that the end was not now and that now was not the end and also that he would know when the end had arrived.