When you wake up hours before dawn, you can toss about, punch your pillow from left to right, rub your eyes with both hands, stare toward the murky ceiling in a vain attempt to discern its edges, mumble into the dark, or chuckle in despair, but you can also get up, feel your way down the stairs, walk into the cold, misty night stark naked, and watch from the safety of your terrace the flickering lights of surrounding towns and villages in complete silence. After a few minutes, you will crawl back into your warm bed feeling taller, stronger, handsomer, and much more cunning. You may even fall asleep once again.