Mysterious fear and loathing in the night

It was 5 am and I awoke to the sounds of creatures in great pain. It must have been loud, because I was right upstairs in the studio in the loft. I turned over and relaunched the BBC iplayer, which is my usual way of dealing with insomnia. I don't sleep very much at this phase in my life, perhaps five hours a night in periods which are rarely longer than an hour, often much less. The noise died down and I felt that those suffering had found relief without my help.

My eyes still get tired so I cannot read for long periods, and the radio is my lifeline. The spoken word is very comforting, so my choice is frequently a play or comedy program. BBC iplayer for radio is available all over the world, unlike the television, which suits me fine.

I went down to the living room some hours later and discovered a body inside a sleeping bag next to the fire. His face was a couple of inches from that of the dog sleeping on her own mat in front of the fire. On the sofa was a mound of clothes that resolved into another corpse on inspection. All in all there were 13 of them in cupboards, on floors, here and there.

Darling D had performed a concert Saturday night, and the group had come back to party...

We all sat around a table laden with pork and pineapple for Sunday lunch, and , at last, I discovered the source of the terrible wailing and groaning.

They had been singing along with Celine Dion...