Stormy Sky

The sky is a dark slate gray, and far, far away on the horizon it shifts to a softer, cooler gray. It's not dark yet, and the world takes on a hushed, ethereal tone under the presence of the sky.

I am sitting in front of my living room window, taking in all that is without.
It is so lovely.

The light falls as though it is a heavy fog, being pulled by its own weight to the floor of the earth. Everything - even the semi-truck boasting the seal of the United States Army in the deserted, dusty lot next to my building and the ever present stream of traffic to the east of my living room - seems enchanted by the night.

*

Every once in a while, when the world seems particularly unfriendly and the circumstances of life reveal another winding, confusing knot of twists and turns, and nothing seems quite right - I notice something beautiful, if even just for a moment, and I remember that everything really is gonna be all right.

*

And then, in a flash, it might be gone. Even now, in the four minutes it's taken me to write this, the light has vanished. The color of the night sky is less fantastic than moments before and the glimmer has been replaced by a duller, flatter layer of black. It is just the night. Creeping up on the world as it does at the end of every day. Tucking us under its wings, and lulling us to sleep beneath its weight.

*

Good night.