[A horn honks outside his window and he jumps and looks up. The jingle of Bishop's collar makes his head tilt to the left. He can hear the whir of the fridge and the hum of his ceiling fan overhead.]

[He can't sleep. He can hear the soft hum of the ceiling fan motor buzzing in his living room. Constantly humming. The coffee maker switches on to make his scheduled cup. Seven on the dot. He had a few more minutes before the timer dinged and Bishop woke him up.]

;- A long time ago...

-; "Give him head?" "Be a beacon?"

Love and regret, and the things we become at night.

;- This seems like ages ago.

She was a gentle summer rain In the silent night When you needed it most.