For the first time for some three weeks I crashed out in the early evening in the deepest possible manner. I had a full stomach from an early dinner and nothing to stay awake for after the Maghrib Prayer, so the crash was deep and spectacular and fulfilling, even though it lasted less than an hour.
I've always felt that of all Shakespeare's tragic figures Macbeth gets the worst of it, simply because he can't sleep anymore. This evening's precious fifty minutes or so confirmed that intuition.
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