Illustrated image for article Agreement with the Enemy - The Insomniac (2.)!

Agreement with the Enemy - The Insomniac (2.)

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He was eight years older. We were both divorced. He seemed experienced and easy to talk to. He wasn't a handsome man, quite the opposite. I don't know what train of thought led me to the conclusion that an ugly guy must be nice.

What a load of crap!

But he got up first thing in the morning, made a fire, made tea... He seemed so caring. If I'd known at the time that it was just because he couldn't sleep, I think I would have...

F*ck me!

I'm not going to kid myself here. I would have fallen for it just the same. When you're stupid, you're just stupid. There's not much you can do about it. And so I've successfully let myself get caught up in the web without noticing. He simply talked me into it. I was alone. With a small child. Half my brain shut down.

Love is beautiful, but it makes people dumb, blind, and deaf, of which I am walking proof.

We used to go out every week. There was a lot of driving in those days. It was a bit of a revolt. A sense of freedom. Escape. The stations used to be full of strange creatures in camouflage with US Army armbands on their backs every Friday, riding in the last carriage. We'd greet each other with a tramp's "Hi!". Then we played and sang the whole way. Mostly we all knew each other already. We joked, "We'll go in the back wagon because it goes faster."

I loved the mixture of the smell of fire, sweat, and pine needles. I know it's creepy, but it smelled better than Coco Chanel at the time.

It was a beautiful, if slightly foggy, morning. We got up very early. Everyone was still asleep. He built a fire, put on the tea and we talked. He was funny, and when he laughed, his eyes sparkled with boyish stars. That was the only thing I liked about him. Those laughing, mischievous eyes.

It's strange how we women are so hung up on scamps and bastards and swindles. A nice guy doesn't really stand a chance.


By the time the disheveled, hard-to-define yawning figures began to emerge from the shed, we were past breakfast. While I was somewhat undernourished, the others were enjoying themselves.

"It's so great that you're riding with us. He makes us get up when he can't sleep so he's not here alone. He's capable of anything, and he won't rest until we get up. The other day he dragged me and my sleeping bag up to the front of the house and dumped me in the nettles!"


And so I served as a kind of sleeping barrier. All of them slept like babies, but I was like a walking Sleeping Beauty. It was challenging. He kept waking up during the night and increasingly demanding that I talk to him.

I'm a natural sleeper. Mentally, I don't wake up until around 9:00. Communication at four in the morning is limited to "mmm" on my part, a little later I manage to coax out a "hm" and in extreme cases I even break out into a heroic "yeah".


It bothered me, but I didn't do anything. And that was my first mistake.

I vowed to gradually erase the bad memories, but there's still time when it comes to sleeping.

This chapter is definitely not closed.



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Background Photo of the author Hana Vondráčková!
Picture of the author: Hana Vondráčková!

Hana Vondráčková

Kostelec nad Labem, Czech Republic

Writing is a therapy for my aching soul and a bit of an escape from reality....

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