The Death of Night

This, in more dramatic words, describes how I feel when I read or play video games. Lost in the beauty of my own joy. It always ends.

I gaze up at the early morning sky, bearing my face to the chill air that has always calmed my withering heart. It is pitch black, the darkness swallowing me like a blanket and the mists obscuring my figure from all peering eyes. 

The stars were brilliant, creating dazzling patterns across the sky for all willing to look. Like a child, I spun around arms open, still staring up into the beyond watching the stars dance about, as if they were doing it just for me. The moon was also something to behold. In the Luna Glade, as I had always called it, it appeared that moonlight would pool in particular places around the bases of the willow trees, creating a mystical and enchanting energy in this hallowed place. None knew of my sacred dwelling but I. 

The moon tonight was as silvery and luminescent as it always was, though it still stunned me with its unnatural beauty. I could only enjoy its magnificence for a few fleeting moments though, for the sky began to lighten. The stars winked out, causing me to cry out in utter distress. The moon's once calming glow that filled and illuminated the glade just so now switched to into a scalding brand, turning the tranquility into a blazing place of silver-white flames. 

A single tear slipped down my cheek as I mourned the death of night. I threw my hands down, making a thudding sound against the soft, grey-stained  grass. My tears seemed like a glittering golden star, so intense was the shine of the moon on the glade. I realized it was time to get going, or I might be discovered. I put myself back together, hopping up at a rapid pace. I could be missed, but if I hurried I might not be. I sprinted, dodging trees as I went, swift as arrow. Looking back with regret as I left my only true home as the night finally died and the sun finally showed her face. 

Author's Note

Full opinion.

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[Sam Stephens]

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