diary / by Edward Mullany


I couldn’t sleep, so I got up in the night and made coffee, and sat at my computer with the screen on, so that the only light in the room came from the object toward which I was looking, though after I’d sat there for some time, without writing anything, but rather thinking of what I might write if I began, the monitor went dark, as the screensaver commenced, and I was faced with the choice of either nudging the mouse, to return the computer to life, or leaving it alone, and conceding to myself that this interval of waking would not be, and did not have to be, productive.