rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Night Song

Everyone is asleep, the houses dark, the town's vacant streets a gray quilt shot with shadows. I turn slowly on the lawn, trailing a piece of sheer cloth. It ripples in the moonlight, and its shadow flows across the ground. I swirl it faster, then slower, making the variegated shadow dance, its patterns forming and dissolving as the cloth folds and opens again and again. There are no passersby to wonder what I am at; to scurry away with lowered heads so as not to attract the attention of the madman. I let the cloth rise and fall and watch with fascination the blossoming and wilting of flowers of light and shade. I find myself humming softly, as though these patterns were some randomly generated score in an alien form of notation which I am attempting to decipher. A flutter of bat wings and the humming trees accompany me. The mad song is sweet. I would sing it all the time.

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Thirty

    Sunday morning I actually did manage to get to sleep before the sun came up, and then slept with only a couple of interruptions until about half past…

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Twenty-Nine

    Saturday morning when I went to bed the light leaking around the window shades seemed dimmer than usual. I looked outside and the sky was overcast,…

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Twenty-Eight

    Friday was swallowed by a dragon. I only smelled its smoky breath a couple of times as the wind shifted about, but up in the mountains it devoured…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.