I woke with a start

A sound from above

I lay in the dark

Wrapped round me like a glove.

That was it, and there,

again and again

A sort of tapping and rustling

My first thought was rain

Falling on the window

But I listened, straining to hear

The noise wasn’t coming from that direction.

I heard it again, loud and clear.

I could see the mirror from where I lay

My eyes wide, black holes in my face

Pale and scared and not very brave.

If only I wasn’t alone in that place.

I was pretty sure that the noise

Was coming from above my head.

I breathed deeply and then

Slowly, carefully, I slid out of bed

I crept to the loft hatch

And eased it ajar

And peered through the gap

Feeling well below par.

My hands were all clammy

My breathing too fast

I could no longer hear the noise

It was quiet at last.

I knew the light switch was just inside

As I pushed on the hatch it let out a creak

I reached for the light switch

My legs feeling weak

I pressed the switch but the light didn’t work

Hadn’t I changed the bulb only a month ago?

I could see something moving up in the rafters.

It tensed as I opened the loft hatch real slow.

The thing was very still

Then moved really fast

Directly towards me

Then veered and went passed.

I couldn’t speak, I was frozen

As it scuttled to the darkest part of the loft

Its body was vaguely human

But the abdomen looked swollen and soft

It was the stuff of nightmares.

Its arms and legs were spindly and thin

All angles and thick black hair.

A shape dangled behind it and started to spin.

Something was wrapped up and suspended

The thing was moving and I realised

That it was human being

Trapped and struggling inside.

I was distracted and I paid the price

One moment I was thinking what to do now

Then I sensed movement

I’m not sure how

But the creature had crept forward

And suddenly lunged

I fell backwards out of the loft

Down into the landing I plunged

I was knocked unconscious by the fall

When I awoke everything was black

I was upside down

Hands squashed behind my back

And gradually I understood

The creature had caught me like a fly

And I was trapped and hanging

Waiting to die

And as I spun upside down

I could hear the nightmarish beast

As it moved towards me and began it’s feast

Mrs Maloney from just down the street

Let out some expletives I don’t care to repeat

“If that cat comes in my garden again” she said

“I’ll kick it right over the garden shed”.

I looked at Mr Heath to see what he’d say

About someone kicking his cat such a long way.

It seemed quite unlikely she could kick it that far,

It seemed over ambitious, a needlessly high bar.

“Mrs Maloney” I helpfully said

“I think its unrealistic to get it over the shed.

If you were younger and stronger and tall

I’d call it evens but you’ve no chance at all.

Why don’t you be realistic in light of your age

I appreciate cat kicking is difficult to gauge

But clearing the flower bed would be a good start for you

And work your way up to something harder to do.”

Mrs Maloney’s response wasn’t very nice

And she didn’t seem likely to take my advice.

Instead she surprisingly ran towards Mr Heath

Kicked his shin so hard he spat out his teeth

Which hit the cat which shot up in the air.

And came down as a replacement for Mr Heath’s hair.

I clapped at this point, it seemed to be right

That I acknowledged that the cat had definitely taken flight.

But now it was perched on Mr Heath’s head

Where it had landed, “Unlucky” I said.

“It’s clearly not actually gone all that high

But its still a good effort, an excellent try.”

Mr Heath didn’t appear to share my view.

He had a cat on his head and had lost his teeth too.

“Don’t worry Mr Heath, I’ll lend you a hand.

We’ll find them in no time, did you see them land?”

Mr Heath seemed to be chewing, his face getting red.

The cat with its claws out still clung to his head.

I spotted the teeth “Hurrah you’re in luck.”

I said as he brushed off some suspicious brown muck.

How on earth the other omission had passed me by.

As that’s when I noticed he was missing his glass eye.

“Mr Heath, you appear to be one eye short”.

He didn’t seem to welcome this newsflash report.

His face got redder, not a good sign

Then I let out a cheer “Everything’s fine.

I can see your eye, its there by your shoe”.

Mr Heath picked it up, uncertain what to do.

He decided to pop the eye straight back in

But it wobbled around as he broke into a grin.

It eventually settled with the eye looking behind.

It was back to front although he didn’t seem to mind.

What bothered me most and it seemed a bit crass,

That sticking out from the eye was a long piece of grass,

Which wiggled and shook and flicked all about,

As he blinked his eye and it refused to drop out.

Eventually I had to point the grass out

At which point Mr Heath started to shout.

Until that moment he had seemed quite relaxed

But the cumulation of events had got him quite taxed.

So he shouted and shouted of this and of that

Of eyeballs and teeth, of shins and his cat

And how the current occupant of his head

would not be flying any where near to his shed.

So at this point I decided to leave if I could.

I’d tried to behave as a good neighbour should.

But both my neighbours seemed somewhat prone

To outbreaks of violence so I left them alone.

And as far as I know although I cannot be sure

Mrs Maloney is still forced to endure

The unwelcome deposits from Mr Heath’s cat

And as they say my dear reader: that is that.

The little old lady who lived next door

Was laid down on my kitchen floor.

She looked ok from what I could see

And she asked me to make her a cup of tea.

I hesitated not wanting to be rude.

Should I ask why she was completely nude?

She smiled as if reading my mind.

So I made the tea and wondered why I would find

Mrs Mulligan from number 23

Letting everything loose and swing free

In my kitchen, on the floor;

And come to think of it what is more

She hadn’t knocked or rung the bell.

So I asked her to explain and tell

How this had happened, so undeterred

She told me the strangest story I’d ever heard.

So cross my heart and wish me dead

This is exactly what she said:

“I was in the bath splashing about

When the battery in my hearing aid ran out.

So I hopped out of the bath and to the kitchen drawer

Where I knew I had several more.

But when I checked there was only one there.

So I had one when I needed a pair.

Well I hunted high and I hunted low

Until I came across a second solo.

But I dropped it and away it went

Across the tiles and into a vent.

Well when I crouched on the floor

I could see the vent opened up next door.

The battery was now in your place

And I was determined to continue the chase.

The kitchen seemed to be the correct location

Assuming the battery had ceased it’s rotation.

So here’s something you didn’t know:

Our lofts are joined, sort of free flow.

So I didn’t think you’d really mind

If I nipped across just to find

My hearing aid missing bit

Which seems to be under a kitchen unit.

Well I was lying here trying to see

If the battery which is evading me

Is anywhere here about

When I heard you come in and shout.

Well it was more of a girlish squeal.”

“Whoa. Hang on. I really feel

That it was a natural response to let out a yell

Which was definitely manly, anyone could tell.”

I felt flustered and in retreat.

This ancient adventurer laid at my feet.

“Well anyway Mrs Mulligan, here’s your tea

And next time you need a small battery,

Please get dressed and come and knock

And then I won’t have quite the shock

That you gave me when I came in here.”

“Don’t you worry, young man, never fear,

there will be no repeat that’s for sure.

Anyway, I also have a key to your front door.”

Who knew that sleep was something I took for granted until I became less good at it? You only appreciate such things when they become elusive and by then it’s too late. When combined with my compulsion to check emails and messages it’s a toxic mix.

As anyone who suffers with sleepless episodes can attest, the night can be a lonely place. It’s bizarre how you can be lying next to someone yet feel isolated by your sleeplessness. Perhaps the dark also plays its part but for me it’s the feeling that everyone else is preoccupied and I’m excluded from this recharging of mental and physical batteries. I worry about the impact on my symptoms and am very aware that my mood is adversely affected when I don’t sleep well.