rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


A pale spider adorns the white wall. It is difficult to see, but I notice its shadow as it creeps. Inspecting, I discover that it is not of a venomous variety, and thus I decide to let it live. I would escort it outdoors, but fear that it would be eaten by some predator in the larger world. In any case, I'm counting on it to trap and kill the mosquitoes who want to give me West Nile virus.

Summer night arrayed with stars invites me to laze outdoors. The air is like a warm bath, sinking into every pore. A few distant crickets chirp, but all else is still, the trees unstirred, the houses dark, all the neighborhood dogs sleeping, the streets empty of cars. Day feels distant, and I would gladly keep it so. I suffer an excess of light this time of year, even though I am nocturnal. Tonight, I have not even the moon to narrow my eyes, and can let my thoughts go as dim as my sight, as soft as the cricket songs. The cat pads along the walk, meowing briefly to warn me of her presence and protect herself from my blind steps should I move. She has learned that I lack her night vision. For the moment, I'm glad that I do.

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