2.18.c What To Do…

Tossing and turning for over an hour after climbing into bed, Beatrice’s questions still troubling my mind, I continued to resist the urge to pick up my phone. Calling people about my suspicions at this hour would not yield any concrete answers (other than what people thought of me), but I needed to do something. 

Turning on the lamp on my nightstand, pulling over the ever present notepad and pencil I started jotting down a to-do list…

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Looking it over, satisfied with its completeness, I switched off the light and laid back down. Nothing left to do except wait for a decent hour to start pestering people with questions. 

Feeling the thinking trap starting to snap, trying to rob me of the scant hours left before my alarm, I switched my churning brain to counting, nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine…nine-hundred-and ninety-eight….nine-hundred-and-ninety-seven…….nine-hundred-and-ninety-six………..nine-hundred-and-ninety-five……………………………………..nine-hundred-and-ninety-four………………………………………………………….