It was raining last night, hard at times. It pounded the roof and formed a curtain of sound between the house and the world. It seemed to be washing away all that had come before, including the presidential debate we had just watched.

I thought it would be difficult to sleep, but exhaustion and the sound of rain on the roof carried me away for five hours, when I awoke chest pounding, thoughts ricocheting. No need to go into those; let’s just say they weren’t pretty. 

But there was one consolation: Last night, I imagine, I was not alone. I can only assume there were legions of us tossing and turning. Last night, I suspect, it was the exception rather than the rule to be sleepless in America.