150 / 365 – Raw

FINN TILLARY

After a week like this … hot, long hours, not enough sleep. Lying awake at night with the window open while it’s a little too hot, not enough breeze, nights when you like awake praying for the wind that other days you’re sick of. Praying for sleep, but it never quite comes. Back at work during the day, just trying to make it for more hours.

Last night, driving back from over by Grand Forks, sipping a cup of C-store coffee, bitter stuff, but needing to stay awake. The sun is setting after nine o’clock now, it’s getting dark at ten. The prairie is dark, with just a sliver of moon in the sky. Wondering if I’ll make it home. Not wanting to pull over into someone’s sunflower field and catch sleep in the cramped cab of the truck.

The road winds and climbs up the grade and then it’s back on flat prairie, the road stretching straight ahead to the west, just lit in starlight. The moon is readying to set, hanging low over the highway like an old friend, beckoning home.

I’m so tired I’m raw and wild and open. I flip the station on the radio and catch something coming south from Canada. Sweet sounds. A song I haven’t heard since high school. Suddenly full of a longing, but also a sweet fullness. Life has been good. The song reminds me. I’m just full and raw and open. And life is all right.

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