Anywhere, Earth
3AM. It’s unseasonably cold for September. I turn the key and the car comes to life. She warms for a moment as I turn the windshield wipers to the ‘mist’ setting. As I toggle through my FM radio presets, I realize that only Miles Davis can supply the soundtrack to a night like this. Windows sheathed, I feel the storm cleansed air envelop me instantly, causing me to shiver just long enough for me to smirk. This is my kind of night.
This is my Elysium.
The stoplights are friendly tonite and although I don’t mind waiting, they sense my presence, happily dance and signal me onward. No other cars greet me. The bright neons of consumerism are silent. The night sky is mute, but the strongest of the burning bodies shine through. It gives me a hope… for absolutely nothing particular at all.
I think about my past on such early mornings. I cycle through my list of what-if’s and if-only’s and catch myself in extraordinary futures where I am at the cafe terrace at night, sipping heat with both of my hands long enough to write a few lines about love with an old fountain pen in a second-hand, leather-bound journal.
When I regain focus, I think about ______, _______, & ______. Does it even matter anymore? Sadly, the answer is yes. Those blanks have shaped my happiness in the present.
So now, I sit in silence. Screaming out loud with my fingertips, typing with care not give away too much of who I am. After all, this is my life, pain and pleasure. It is my own.
It’s what keeps me warm @ night.
~Herschell
