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from Harvester by Tom Mohler

3 A.M. at Home

I haven’t slept for days, or maybe it’s been weeks. Hell, I’m not even sure anymore. I’ve been popping Ambien from the unmarked pill bottle sitting on the table next to me like it was my job, washing them down with a bottle of Davy Crockett brand whiskey. It’s a very strict regimen, but here I am still awake— unable to even black out drunk and on drugs.

I can only assume my insomnia is some sort of stress induced ailment. Money has been pretty tight lately and th...





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