coffee with my friend the night

I came home late one night. I parked my car in front of the house like I usually do... got my stuff and went down. There was something peculiar about the darkness... it seemed well, darker than the usual. It wasn't long before I realize that something was at the porch. It was still. It was calm. It was both life and death smoking a cigar. The scent of the cigar is no doubt cuban. I guess even the night has expensive taste.

It's been a while...what brings you here?...

Oh nothing. I thought I'd drop in on one of my old friends.

Do you want something to drink?

A cup of brewed coffee would be nice.

We sat down in our dining table talking about things long and gone. He used to come here often when I was a kid. We would stay up all night till the first light signals his departure. The night has many things to offer... it was always such a wonder why people sleep through it.

Sandman died ya know?

That explains so much. I used to dream about a lot of things. I used to look forward to the next big adventure till I met the night. The dream came less and less until it was no more than a memory.

The next hour was filled with silence. It wasn't the annoying kind though. It provided solace for both the darkness and myself.

It was nice seeing you again.

Same here...

I'll see you again soon...

do I have I choice?

I guess not.

With that, he was gone.

As I lay in my bed preparing for the great blank space, someone lighted a cigar...

I thought you were dead?

So did I...

Emoshun's Journals

coffee with my friend the night