libertyjug68 wrote:Extentuating circumstances surrounding the punch line of this event may or may not be interesting to the reader but I feel a few will help to set the scene. It was late spring in Boise and I had recently been dumped by my girlfriend, and drinking partner, after a booze soaked ballyhoo and Bukowski style morning of tears and beers and barfing. Well I was ruminating and drinking wine some weeks later absolutley unable to sleep as a normal person lying down in a bed and getting six to eight hours a night. No I was catching my zzzzzz's in chairs, sitting up on couches and even on fence rails. This particular night I walked, burdened by the inability to sleep, to the top of a bluff that overlooks the city. Here I sat on the top rail of a split rail fence and relaxed sipping red wine and gazing at the lights in the valley. Suddenly I was awakened by the sound of my ceramic cup hitting the ground and found that I was rolling down a steep embankment of dry desert grasses and loose dry sand. That is it, I finally fell asleep, on a fence nonetheless, and woke up rolling down a hill. Some teeenagers out on a night prowl saw me grabbing at and losing hold of the hummocks of grass slipping down the hill and then finally making some progress of ascent. As I neared the perch from which I had fallen I heard one of them say, " a person could really get hurt falling down that slope", and then I like some beast from from a gin mill angry with the world scoldingly ordered them to "move along, move along". The Humpty Dumpty of a sleepless hell.
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