And then I’m half-drunk on insomnia and believe I can feel hair growing in my ears. It’s I’m sitting in a tree and I can hear the wind rustling until I rouse up another few levels toward reality and realize that my hand, forearm, arm, or shoulder are twisted in such a way that hair rests directly over the lobe. I adjust and the crinkling sensation ceases, but by then I’m wide awake. I play the sound of rain (it never does naturally pour when I’m here) and wait to sleep from dawn until downtown traffic.