It has suddenly occurred to me that I have been listening to the sound of traffic at 2am since I was about 8 years old.

It is both comforting and frustrating.

It’s a friend you don’t see that often, but when you do, you start up right where you left off.

It used to have a particular thumpity-thump noise, as the tractor trailers speed down the empty highway, unfettered by little cars, ants to the giant machines.

The silence after they’ve passed, filled only with the chirping of crickets and katydids.

Now it is a peculiar whoosh of a multitude of cars, as they speed down the turnpike, unaware of the people just beyond the sound barrier, cut by the grumbling sound of the giant machines, complaining about sharing their road with the ants.

And me.

Waiting for the sun to rise, so I may sleep.