In the Still of the Night

It was nearly 1 o'clock in the morning last night as I wrapped up my writing for this week's deadline.

Around 10:30 at night, everyone had finally headed off to bed and I picked up my notebook (yes, I'm a pen and paper writer at heart) and decided to sit up in bed and work. Thinking that I had waited until there was relative quiet on the Ark, I picked up my pen and my notes to begin.
Funny, how I had never noticed the annoying click-click-click-clack that our ceiling fan was making. Not to mention the very loud breathing of the person next to me. How had I ever gotten any sleep with that around? (Now I know the exact response of said loud breather, but I'm going to take my chances here.)

So, with a harumph of indignation, I picked up my things and headed downstairs. I spent about an hour getting my writing in order and decided to call it a night (or a morning, depending on how you look at it).

Climbing back into bed, for the second time, my head relaxed immediately upon touching the pillow. But, unfortunately for me, I suddenly couldn't sleep.

It was too quiet.

Fortunately, the fan was humming and the Captain's deep breaths next to me formed a pleasant melody carrying me off into a deep slumber. Thank God, I thought as I pulled my quilt to my chin, for the blissful quiet noise of my house at night.