231
William Phillips
SLEEP NO MORE
I had just awakened from one of those hot afternoon naps
that leave you limp and surly, when the door
bell
rang insistently.
It was probably a normal ring, but in my haH paralyzed state
.it
sounded like a call to action that I was unable
to
carry out. I was
immediately tom between a desire not to be disturbed and a fear
of missing something, however trivial or distasteful. I remembered
those times when some bohemian acquaintance, whose whole being
lay coiled in his tongue, would come to see me at some off moment,
at seven in the moming, for example, before I had even had a chance
to brush my teeth, and proceed to explain his latest theories about
men, women, and history. But my terror of being caught with my
guard down was offset by my inability to reject any experience
outright; and I compromised with myself by peeking out of my
window to see who the intruder was. In this way I was at least able
to postpone the decision as to whether I should answer the bell or not.
I strained at the window for some time, until I saw a man
emerge from the hallway downstairs. I backed away, with the quick
movement of a lethargic animal, but I was soon at my post again,
ostensibly watching his movements, yet acting as though I were the
one being watched, or rather as though I were being pursued, and
the problem was to conceal my presence with
all
the cunning at my
command.
The man, whom I now saw, even from my perspective, to be
tall and massive, went down to another entrance below the street
level, obviously determined to get into the house.
This
puzzled me
and only increased my fear of discovery, for the man was a stranger,
and it surely was not normal for anyone but an intimate friend
to
be so intent on getting up to my apartment when obviously no one
was at home. He might have been a salesman or Gallup pollster, but
