It was getting dark outside. Arthur watched the sun setting, and his mood soured considerably. No wonder – he hadn’t been sleeping properly for a week. And it wasn’t for lack of trying! He had done plenty of exercise, working himself hard in PE class and playing football or going out rollerblading every day after school. He had gone to bed on time, often without even waiting for his dad to tell him to. He hadn’t eaten anything heavy before bed and he hadn’t turned on the TV even once. The only music he’d listened to was calm, and he hadn’t played any computer games. All he’d had to drink in the evenings was unsweetened chamomile tea. He’d drawn the curtains carefully all the way across so that the moonlight didn’t creep in, and he’d left the window open for fresh air. But despite all this, he hadn’t been able to get to sleep.
Now another night was approaching and Arthur knew what was going to happen. Like every evening for the past week, he would brush his teeth, turn on the standard lamp, curl up in a large, comfortable armchair and switch on the radio to listen to his favourite programme. As soon as his eyelids began to droop, he would turn off the lamp, crawl into his bed and burrow under the covers... and wait, and wait... but in vain. He would spend the whole night waiting for his dream to begin, and it wouldn’t. Arthur knew that he would wake up in the morning more tired than he was already, and the thought of another sleepless night filled him with helplessness and anger.
Dad saw his son throwing his toothbrush around in frustration.
“Arthur, if you get yourself worked up like…
