The risen moon gradually brightens as the pink west fades to mauve. The trees still show some detail, and the katydids are still silent, but that will soon change. For the moment, the world hangs between day and night, vague yet recognizable. This moment never lasts long enough.
Heat has returned, but not enough of it to justify air conditioning. Thus, I face a night of Sluggolessness. A Saturday night, too, and nothing on television. I guess it's reading or ennui. Reading, then.