Mika's Insomnia

On day four without sleep, the edges of things start to hum. Not vibrate — hum, like everything is a tuning fork struck at a frequency just below hearing. Mika's hands shake when she pours coffee. She sees movement in mirrors that isn't there. She writes notes to herself because her short-term memory is dissolving like sugar in rain. The notes say things like "the signal is real" and "don't trust Tuesday" and she doesn't remember writing any of them.