A Review of Bill Hayes’ Insomniac City: New York, Oliver, and Me
One mid-winter day, as I am walking around a frozen lake with my husband, a lifelong insomniac, we spot a muskrat. The small mammal is glassy-eyed and shuddering in deep snow with his pathetic hairless tail looped over bare toes. He should be sleeping in a cozy burrow, but like some misguided groundhog he’s awake,...