4:17 A. M.
4: 18 A. M.
4:19 A. M.
The unholy hour flashed on his alarm clock, letting Gyro Gearloose know the time. He had been up since one in the morning, unable to fall back to sleep, or even close his eyes for more than ten seconds.
4:24 A. M.
He was rarely an insomniatic person, but for some reason the night would allow him no rest or comfort from the darkness.
He flopped down on the snow-colored sheets, covered his head with a pillow and willed himself to melt into them like a single snowflake into a whitened yard. "Ugh..."
A bitter taste filled his mouth, like when you recall something unpleasant. Nothing was worse than being awake when all you want is to sleep, ESPECIALLY when you have to go to work in three hours. He tried remembering what he used to do when he couldn't get any rest, but nothing sparked in his mind.
Gyro stared out the window. A tall, lonely tree filled in the view, an inky black thing in the moonlight. Most people would have complained. It ruined the sight from the window. But secretly he liked it, as it almost felt like it was watching out for him. It felt like someone in the whole world was looking out for him.
It was something happy to think about. Someone looking out for you, who loved you, was the most wonderful and coveted thing in the world. Pretty soon, that happy thought faded away with the streetlights and blurred with the early, rumbling traffic, into the rising sun.
Work could wait until later.