Midnight Blues

Sleep evades me, especially when I am exhausted. Unused to rising before the dawn, yet when the time comes for rest my mind refuses to idle. Costume ideas, storylines, a potential birthday getaway to San Diego or San Francisco, even designs for a PVC pipe rifle stock for my camera stir within me. I keep vigil, using my prayers as a mantra to calm my thoughts until I drift into darkness. 
There's a coolness to the wind, and I find myself breathing more freely as the salty air fills my nostrils. I see a few faint stars through the clouds, which were themselves illuminated by the full moon. I move on, my boots falling heavily upon the planks of the pier, a dull thud with each step. Nice night for a song, but the blues bar at the far end of the pier was nearly drowned out by the waves. 
Fishermen were idling along the rail, lines swaying with the tide. One man was showing his son one of the gigantic crabs that sometimes come up with the moon. I chuckled at the sight of the kid poking a curious finger at it and jerking it back at the slightest twitch of a claw. With the size of that crab, I nearly wished for a crowbar. 
I turned the collar up on my coat as I passed a couple cuddling while they gazed at the waves. Not a sight I needed right now, especially as the breeze had tickled the hairs on the back of my neck. Just like she used to. As much as I wished to do something with it, I should probably just get a haircut. Or maybe invest in a new hat. 
As I walked along, I threw a few coins into an open instrument case and Satchmo blew a tune on his horn in appreciation. I lifted my fist, flicking up a thumb. I may be listening to a lot of Bond lately, but this will always remain true: Brass kicks ass. 
The smell of orange chicken, fried rice, and roast duck drew me over to a Chinese food stand. I may not be Catholic, strictly speaking, but I keep some practices out of respect. Like giving up Panda Express for Lent. I patted my wallet through my pocket, but kept on walking. Until I caught the eye of the girl at the Hot Dog On A Stick stand. Never hurts to smile at a pretty girl, but again, not what I needed tonight. I moved along. 
I continued until I reached the end of the pier, but the Blues bar had fallen silent. Satchmo kept playing, his horn crooning at me from where I left him. With nowhere else to go, I leaned against the railing, watching the waves, and a sea lion lounging out on a buoy. What was I looking for? And as I rubbed a hand against the stubble on my face, I wondered, why the hell am I wearing a pea coat? I hate pea coats. 

I opened my eyes and reached over for my iPod. I was out for half an hour. 

Meh. It's not like I need to get up early anyways...