It was like this, but darker.
* * *
I had a goal of twenty minutes of activity, and so I took off.
Streets I don’t normally cross after dark were crossed after dark. Leaves crunched under my feet even though they really should be gone from our paths by now. Down the hill and up the hill. Familiar sights made unfamiliar by the dark of night and a new perspective. Shadows played tricks on me as they bounced in every direction from the streetlights and passing cars. Sometimes those shadows were people, but mostly they were not.
I made sure to look in every window. Not to see people but to observe spaces. At night you can get a better look to the inside. The curtains, the lighting, the shelving, the impossible neatness, the ridiculous clutter–all exposed. And sometimes there were people, but I didn’t see them. Every place a little different and masked in its own personality.
Curiosity–what was the history of these homes, these buildings? What is their story? The who, the why, the what, the when. And the how. Always the how.
Onward, onward. Past the cemetery painted sepia sans processing by the light of the moon (was it full or was it not?) and the tungsten lighting. Past an empty park that I couldn’t help but imagining dragging someone down to swing on its swings. A glance down to realize I forgot basic math and needed to head back up the hill, crossing traffic.
* * *
This post was written as a Just Write exercise. A good challenge to get the rust off and find my creativity once more. Bear with me while I attempt to find it!
Check out others’ Just Write posts here.