We know [antikvár]

Isnapped awake at 2:18 am, the bloodshot numerals staring at me from the nightstand. For years on end, I woke up at this exact time every night, regardless of what time zone I was in. But after seventeen years, I had just started sleeping through the night. I had finally outrun the old fears. Or so I had convinced myself. Remote sirens warbled in the night. At first I figured they were in my head, the soundtrack to the dream. But the distant wail got louder instead of fading. I hadn't awakened on my own. I ran through what I remembered from the previous evening - the presidential debate had closed out prime time, and after the commentariat finished yammering, f d fallen asleep watching a high-speed chase on the news. A guy in a beat-to-shit Jeep Cherokee, hauling ass down the 405, a légion of black-and-whites drawn behind him like a parachute. I blinked hard, inhaled, and looked around. Same Lemon-Pledge scent of my third-floor condo. My sweat imprint on the sheets and pillow. Breeze rattling palm fronds against my balcony one thin wall over.