Hundreds of thoughts jostling your mind , many a decisions coming back to you making you rethink every move.... asking you to define every action of yours, acceptance that the things you thought would change but now you are all certain that they won't... letters which i am scared completing , an unending list of things to complete and still I write .....
The night is the harbinger of the now familiar incompleteness and loneliness.......
Where was she, Day thought? Out celebrating her time off or sleeping late. She never could tell, for whenever the woman walked in she was cloaked in a luster that nothing seemed able to weaken. When she brought along her longtime friend, Moon, her radiance seemed doubled. On most days, she was accompanied by a bevy of silly stars, forever smiling. Oh, how she loathed the sight of those senseless creatures beatific faces. And the Moon shamelessly agreed to share space with those little things.
Now, the Sun was a different matter. Always, full of himself, when he took the stage, there was no room for another. But his monologues were worth it. And anyone who attempted a performance while he was center stage would get their fingers burnt for their trouble, literally (she smiled). There was this one time…
But where was Night? It was late and whether she liked to admit it or not, she was craving some rest. That frivolous fool, Night… she must have found someone to talk with… now that kind of thing rarely happened to Day. Sure, the birds did stop early on for a song or two, but soon enough everyone seemed to get busy, no time to talk ,chat and probably no inclination either. That was the trouble with being the best. It was lonely at the top.
Now Night, she had a charm, even when she chose to travel alone. Dressed in her darkest blue, the one that rippled and seemed like black one instant and blue the next, she would flash a smile and everyone would suddenly let their inhibitions fall. Here was Night, they’d say, she’s a friend, there’s nothing to hide from her. Secrets would stampede to fall from mouths and skeletons would wage war to emerge from closets. She always seemed to have that effect.
And here was, bright, brilliant Day with light that none could beat, with the Sun in tow who would wish to lighten up everyone (and at times the bright light piercing the eyes would make his presence undesired) .... except on cloudy days when rain played spoilsport, and had he managed to make a single true friend?. Even Sun, pompous fool that he was, only used her, preening himself on the platform she laid out for him. And the only reason she had condescended to put up with him was because he wanted to be friends. What a delusion! Considering how she was, she should have known better and more importantly, she should have let the resentment subside. She was stronger than that; she had no need to mope, but it rankled that Night seemed popular and with such little effort.
Night wondered what all her admirers would say when they saw her signing off, drunk on the sheer ecstasy of being, pale after having tasted every conceivable pleasure, dreamy eyed… what could they say, except sigh in longing maybe? No signing off ...
Ah, there she was. And her friend, tagging along, dressed in a crescent and an inane smile and still managing to look attractive. The way she was describing it sounded like she was half in love with Moon . What a frightening thought!
Night’s boisterous greeting echoed. With a smile that seemed directed at no one in particular and that encompassed all, Day approached her ,she sulked and turned him back. Night embraced the morose Day. A minute later, she unwrapped her arms and shook her cloak into place once again. There was no sign of Day anywhere.
Another twilight was over!
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