Solitary Nights


Not a sound can be heard outside my bedroom window. The world is asleep, lost in a myriad of universes that we call dreams.



The rhythmic tapping of keyboard keys, a tiny sound in this large city, sounds suddenly incredibly loud. I pause, ashamed of breaking the tranquil silence. A night breeze flutters through the window, playing with the strands of my hair, inviting the sheer white drapes to join them in a dance. A tree, with its darkened limbs painted in shadows, rustles in the distance, whispering secrets I will never live to understand.

Indeed, while we sleep the world is ever-watching, coaxing those who cannot yet sleep into peaceful slumber.

If only I could sleep, but stacks of paper, like glistening snow after a heavy snowfall, lie undisturbed on my table. Dim lamplight reminds me of what I must finish. This is the life of a student. The life of an adult. Of anyone past childhood.

Few can escape the fate of solitary nights. Yet, perhaps it is a blessing of sorts. Because for one night, we have the world, with its countless stars, sweet crisp breezes, and the taste of fading seasons, to ourselves.

And it never fails to keep us company.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s