Jimmy looked up from the brown leather sofa, out through the skylight and into the purple night sky. The thoughts and fears of the day escaped his mind, ghosting up through the glass pane and becoming nothing but stars themselves.
As he watched, hundreds of shimmering white specs appeared against the ever darkening void. Tiny wrinkles appeared at the sides of his eyes and across the bridge of his nose as he squinted – resulting in even more stars making themselves known.
The names of constellations darted into Jimmy’s head. The Plough, The Bear, the… er.. The belt one. The Big Dropper? The Big Dripper? The Big Dipper! Or was that just an Americanism of The Plough?
Jimmy closed his eyes and turned away from the sky as his relaxation began to turn its back on him.
His own mind, he concluded, was his worst enemy.
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