One car passes as the stars shift slowly across the heavenly plain. Its wheels scream a protest against any sort of movement, the wailing charges through the stillness like tides pulling on the moon. It's backwards and unkind; yet the chill and darkened air carries the cries even through the muffling walls.
My quiet is louder for it.
Sounds abound my ears though silence engenders some semblance of sleep. If only shutting my sight would shelter my ears from the sirens of all that survives in the night. A cat hisses just beyond my head, though the wall holding out the weather crisply penetrating to the bone. Angry growls reverberate in the emptiness: an upset response to the annoyed tires, four of which proceed on Northward.
Are they speaking to each other? To me?
Soft ticking echoes in the kitchen, accompanied by the jingling of dog-tags as he tries to find leftovers from a cold dinner laying on the floor. Certainly his coat blends well with the lack of illumination: beyond my door, through the hallway, and somewhere in the kitchen he is invisible against the backdrop. Nothing is found. no morsel of dreams comes to a tasteful reality. The Screaming returns on cue. The cat challenges the disturbance. He rests upon the woven blanket in the room.
If only my thoughts were so easily transcribed... Sleep would be so nice.
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