rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

End

The last hour of darkness is passing. Someone turns on a porch light. The sky recedes, and fragments of streetscape leap out-- a facade, a section of picket fence, the boles of trees, the corner of a roof, a swath of gray pavement, a mailbox. Alla re frozen in the sudden light. Distance grows darker. A door softly clicks. Someone emerges to search for a newspaper that hasn't arrived. I watch from my shadowed porch. They don't know I'm here. It feels a bit like watching a fish swimming in a tank. Not finding their paper, they return indoors and the light is extinguished. The concealed world is mine again.

My eyes grow re-accustomed to the night. A small point of light I took for a planet draws rapidly nearer, but remains as silent as some distant celestial orb. Unblinking, it glides eastward. As it passes overhead, the faintest hint of sound trails it, like a distant roll of thunder at the very edge of hearing. A moment later it is gone, and the departing light winks out. Journeys are always taking place. I hear a car turning onto the block, see the quick flash of empty yards swept by headlights. I go back inside as the car passes. Closing the door, I hear the slap of a newspaper hitting a driveway up the street. It's all starting again. It's all being taken away.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    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.
  • 0 comments