“I heard you were suffering from insomnia,” Mr. Epitome told Hallie as he entered the Lair Legion Living Room.
Hallie looked up from her copy of Vanity Fair, slightly annoyed at having been interrupted after finally being able to turn to a page of actual content in the glossy magazine, “Uh, yeah.”
It was untrue, of course. The young woman’s lack of sleep was the result of a pathology far more deep rooted in her psyche. She assumed Dominic knew the true rationale behind her condition, but as he was one not to discuss (what she perceived as) weakness, kept mum.
The Paragon of Power gave a slight nod, and then, after several moments of awkward silence, where his posture seemed almost anxious, he sat on the lounger opposite Hallie.
“There are many steps a person can take to promote better sleeping habits,” he lectured.
“Such as?” Hallie laid the magazine open across the back of the couch and gave the man her full attention.
Dominic rested his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward slightly, “Well, avoiding naps. Exercising at minimum half an hour daily. Watching what you eat.”
“Are you implying I can’t sleep because I’m some kind of lazy couch potato?” She asked facetiously.
“No.”
“Because I know I’ve put on a few pounds….”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Epitome said quickly, and then resumed his discourse, “No, by diet I mean avoiding things with caffeine and alcohol.”
“No more Irish Coffee before bed: check.”
“You may wish to eat something with the amino acid called tryptophan in the evening: milk, peanut butter, turkey are all sources of tryptophan.”
“A lot of calories in those,” Hallie observed as she put her feet up on the couch.
“Another successful strategy,” the Exemplary Man bulled on, “has been the use of a journal. When a person is under stress, it excites the nervous system and the action of writing down their concerns and possible solutions to-“
“No,” Hallie said with surprising bluntness. Dominic noted the tone of anger and embarrassment in her denunciation and wisely changed subjects.
“You may want to have the iron level in your blood tested. For many women, iron deficiencies can lead to sleep problems.”
“Actually, you know what helps? This- just hearing someone’s voice.”
“Ah,” Epitome acted surprised at the revelation, “If you’d like, I could remain and… talk awhile.”
“Sure, if you have the time.”
“I do. Is there any particular topic of interest?”
Hallie reached down by her feet and brought up her blanket, “Something uninteresting, preferably.”
“Well, I recently read an online article on parliamentary procedures at the First Continental Congress. I found it fascinating, but-“
“Sounds perfect,” Hallie raised her arm and shut off the nearby lamp.
So Epitome quoted the article, verbatim. He discussed the debate the delegates used in striking down the Galloway Plan of Union and approving the Suffolk Resolves, using the men’s own words (though not, to Hallie’s mock disappointment, their voices). He was reciting through the Congress’s Declaration of Rights and Grievances they would send to the King when the young woman finally felt herself nodding off. Unsure if Epitome would be there in the morning (he would be, typing on his laptop) she asked him a question:
“I thought you wanted to hold us all at arm’s length, Dominic?” she sleepily referenced an earlier, angrier, conversation the two had had.
Mr. Epitome smiled slightly from behind his cowl, “It should seem obvious by now, Hallie, especially to one as intelligent as you, that I’m something of a liar.”
Which, while true, was still surprisingly comforting to hear.
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