Waiting in The Sky by Pearson Keith A

Author:Pearson, Keith A
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inchgate Publishing
Published: 2021-08-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

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In the United Kingdom, the average human male lives for 79.4 years, although they’re unconscious for 26.5 of those years. After millions of years of evolution, humans are required to spend a third of their life asleep. That is a significant design flaw.

​Over the last two weeks, I have found it increasingly difficult to engage sleep mode. Last night, I went to bed at ten o’clock as usual, but I was still awake at midnight. I have a theory why. The human body reaches its physical peak at thirty years, so logically, mine must now be in a state of decline. Over time, muscles will waste away, cognitive abilities will fade, and major organs will fail. Eventually, I’ll either succumb to a disease that rapidly terminates my life force, or I’ll end up wasting away in a place like Elmwood Care Home.

​How does any human over the age of thirty cope with this knowledge? How does Mr Choudhary maintain his cheery disposition while his body is falling apart?

​I couldn’t answer that question last night, and I’m no closer to establishing an answer this morning. Nor do I understand why sleep is such a necessary yet temperamental condition.

​“Any ideas, Merle? Why do humans spend a third of their lives asleep?”

​My feline housemate is washing his face, post-breakfast, and distracted.

​“Mind you, your species is even worse. You spend more than half your day asleep.”

​He yawns and then jumps down from the table.

​“Garden, or lounge?”

​I watch him slope off to the lounge; to sleep, no doubt.

​The change in schedule this morning means I am in no hurry to wash up. I’ve two hours until the pre-booked taxi arrives, and I’ll be at Salisbury train station at least twenty minutes before the designated meeting time with The Shepherd. He has not messaged since we agreed to this meeting, but it isn’t the first time he’s remained silent for a prolonged period. As he’s warned in the past, there is good reason to be cautious and that sometimes means limiting non-essential communication.

​I finish the washing up and then rue having time to do nothing. When there is nothing to do, my mind has developed a worrying habit of wandering off towards issues I’d rather not address and thoughts I don’t want to ponder. A point in question is the rectangle box on the table, covered with a red gingham tea towel.

​“Ignore it!”

​Hearing the instruction, even from my own mouth, works. I decide to retreat to my bedroom, where I can escape most of the parental memories still lingering in all the other rooms. They’re both now dead, and I don’t want either of them cluttering my mind. I need to focus on my meeting.

​Switching the computer on, I reference the notes I compiled yesterday and put them into a legible format, organised in order of merit and supplemented with my own opinions to the validity of each. That done, I print two copies and place them in a document folder. I check the time,

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