ClosedIt is late when you leave, or perhaps it is early. Either way as you walk outside and make your way to home or from home you walk in twilight, the world trapped in that in-between place that is neither light nor dark but something in between. Whether or not it is approaching the darkness of dusk or the brightness of sunrise, for now the world is cool and grey, and even though you have walked this path a hundred times it feels somewhat alien in the half light. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something; a soft glow, a flicker of movement. You turn your head and spot a cloud of small, dancing lights, almost outside of your field of vision even as you turn to look right at them. These lights mesmerize you, and soon you are walking towards them even though you don’t intend to. You turn away from your path and follow theirs, away from the street, away from the light, into a dark alley that, when you turn into it, you find ends in a sudden and out of place burst of trees and brush – a forest, tucked into the corner of your city, and even though this registers as strange you can’t stop walking, can’t stop following those lovely dancing lights. And so you walk into the trees, leaves whispering as they brush cool against your skin, and you follow the lights down into the darkness. Down, and down, and down, and down . . . . |