He is in control.
It's what he tells himself as he is drifting off to sleep. He awoke to shocking silence and glowing green numbers, 4:33, dazed and disoriented.
His heart is pounding out of his chest. His head is spinning. His hands, when he tries to move them, shake. It takes him a minute or two to orient himself, to fish the black case from beside his bed, use his cellphone to check the reading. Technology confirms what his body is telling him.
He rips into the package of Sweettarts stashed in his nightstand.
He barely chewed the candy, eating a few then waiting…
Then a few more….
Until the shaking subsides.
Until he can sleep again.
Until he has control.