In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with naps.

Lately we’ve had trouble sleeping, so have begun to rely on naps.

Sometimes the best place to sleep is on a crowded subway train. (If you can get a seat!)

Especially on the A or D between 59th and 125th Streets, a trip that during rush hour can last as long as five or six hours.

Today we were sitting next to these two teenage girls. The whole trip they were happily screaming to each other about something.

Needless to say, it was not Virginia Woolf!

But we didn’t care. The stop-and-start motion of the train lulled us to sleep.

And soon they and everyone else seemed far away.