New post up on my other blog.
Here is an excerpt and a link to the full post:
It’s the wee small hours of the morning. Hours I always think of Sinatra when I am feeling lonely….
He had a classic album of this title.There are hours in the morning. Late in the morning when you can’t sleep.
Thoughts are coming too quickly. You know you should be in bed, but your mind won’t let you.
You’ve had a few drinks. You started smoking again…Still no respite.
Your mind won’t stop.
via Chapter 86: In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning | My Southern Gothic Life.