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// Story Number Thirty 
// Story: THIS IS A STORY 
// by _NAME_ 
//------------------------------//

The stallion woke with a start.

He was still for a few moments, hoping sleep would overcome him again, but for some reason did not feel the slightest bit tired.

He twisted and turned for a while, trying to get comfortable, but nothing seemed to work, and he stayed firmly awake.

So he gave up and simply sat there, frustrated at his predicament, staring at the lazy spin of the ceiling fan illuminated only by the glow of his clock.

He glanced at said clock, and gave an exasperated groan when he saw it was one o’clock in the morning.

Giving up on the prospect of sleep, the stallion sat up, pulling the covers closer around him, and gazed around his darkened room. 

And then, much to his surprise, his stomach rumbled loudly, crying out for some food.

He put a hoof to his stomach in confusion, baffled as to why he was so hungry so late at night.

As his stomach continued to make more noise, the stallion decided to just give in and fix a midnight snack, something he had never done before, otherwise he would never be able to get back to sleep.

With a small grunt, he swung out of bed and lumbered through his moonlit house to the kitchen.

The stallion flicked on the light and opened his fridge, searching for something to quell his appetite, but found nothing that looked enticing.

He shut the fridge and went into his pantry, where he immediately saw a small package of biscuits that would hit the spot.

He grabbed the package, sat at his table, and he started to eat.

A few minutes later, and about three-fourths of the container, the stallion felt sated and the welcome haze of sleep began to creep back over him.

And so, with his hunger more or less taken care of, the stallion went back to bed and fell asleep almost immediately.