Of Desirable Objects

Seeing the moon when it's still light outside is always strange.
It's as if the night just can't wait any longer to come out
      with all it's mysteries
      and fright.

          I can feel little ghosts of creepy-crawlies on my legs, like they can't wait to emerge either.
Something shifts in the vines behind me. To my relief, it's just the cat and he hops out to join me on the bench.
   
          If I could stop being afraid of the dark...that is, if I didn't have to be awake when it falls, it'd be much easier to give the cat a scratch behind the ears and lock the front door behind me. It'd be much easier for me to leave this empty and beautiful house, with it's familiar creaks and shadows--even the poltergeist that walks around upstairs feels safe. Like home. But I'm trying to be an adult here, and in a minute I need to drive back to my house. The one that has all of those awkward ankles and low ceilings and the doors that slam.

          Most of my time writing this has been spent listening and looking behind my shoulder. More sounds are starting to surface and my cat's eyes are beginning to glow.
          Even though I'm not wearing enough to keep from being just a little chilly, I think I'll try to stay out here until night completely takes over.
          I can do that much.

-rae

   Look...I'm not photographer. I usually leave that to Claire and Christopher.