Late night quiet:
I’m glad we have a big teal clock on the wall that tics loudly when everything else is still. I like those little sounds, amplified by the darkness. The creaks in the steps as I creep across the floor, a late latte keeping me awake long past when I should have crawled under the covers, the ceiling fan swirling and the skylights cranked open to an early summer night. I don’t have much communion with owls; I’m more of a morning person by nature. I like picking out the humming rumble of one car, accelerating toward an unknown destination. There’s something special about being the lone one on the road. That feeling somehow translates to my ear. I like the glow of leaves in the halo of a street lamp, and the cycloptic eyes of gadgets lying in wait.
I should stay awake like this more often.