My Sleep Number???
We’ll never know.
We had some close friends come over to listen to the show with us, ate tacos, and waited with more and more anticipation as the two-hour show sauntered on. They read the sonnets throughout the show, some of the ones that were on the homepage with Abraham’s and some that weren’t. We were mentally checking off the ones that they were reading as no longer being contenders, hoping we would hear Abraham’s read at the end of the show, kind of like a grand finale.
But then the show started closing, and they made it clear that they had read all the sonnets for the evening. Now here’s the most disappointing part—they took all these “finalists” and just put their names in a basket and drew a winner!
To me, that doesn’t really feel like a contest. I suppose it’s a contest because some people were eliminated, but then to just pick a random winner! Oh the injustice of it all!
So I will probably never know what my “Sleep Number” is. I suppose if I get to share a lumpy mattress with such a creative, brilliant, hilarious guy I can’t complain too much.
By the way, Abraham was still considered a finalist, even though he wasn’t read on the air. I think he wins a book of sonnets as a consolation prize.