“Wake up, wake up,” it shouts. One bleary eye flickers open, its neighbour soon follows. I pull the duvet over my head; snuggle down into its warmth.
“You can’t wait much longer,” ominous irritation; I’m desperate to stay asleep.
“Now,” it screams. My feet hit the cold floor and I stagger across the bedroom. The bedside clock reads three a.m.
“Bliss,” the voice oozes relief as I begin to pee.
Damned diuretics.