I stare out the window into the empty of night. A silence with so many sounds. I want this moment to last longer than is ever possible. I don’t know why I like these moments so much. I like standing in the cool of the eve. I like the way things sound. I like how it feels.
During the daylight hours of life things feel rushed. I feel like there’s a certain amount of pressure, during the daylight hours, to be so productive. In the evening there seems to be more of a relaxed vibe to everything. Not that I have anything to complain about.
I stand on the porch of our house with nowhere to be and nothing to do. I listen to the sounds. You can hear things farther away at night than you can during the day.I can hear dogs barking blocks away and a train passing in the night miles away.
Tonight I imagine not being alone on this porch. I imagine holding hands with the love of my life. I’m not certain what that really means, love of my life, because people use the word love for almost anything and everything.
I imagine, for a brief moment, having a life worth writing a memoir about.I don’t know where I would live in this imagined life but it would not be here.
I close the door behind me as I leave moment of imagination behind me. Not that I do not dream at night while sleeping in my bed but the dreams I have while awake mean more to me. The things that I imagine on my front porch in the cool of the evening are like possibilities if only things of my life were arranged differently. I come inside from the place I spend imagining the possible to the place where I dream random things, dreams so often forgotten as soon as my eyes glimpse the light of morning, that have no true meaning to me.
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