Carpe Noctum

It was winter, and we were bored, bored out of our minds and in a town that did nothing for it. We'd walk from the time we were kicked out of whatever place we were hanging out in until the sun came up, and we'd sleep til we had to work the next day. It was a strange time where despite seeing so little of the sun, we saw so much of the day.

There were times, of course that we didn't sleep at all. Times we'd get home with just enough time to don our work uniforms and head off. Only to end up wandering again once the day was over.

There was something cool about the fact that when the town was asleep and their power was off, we would be up wandering, and we were really the only ones who knew the power was out at all.

Then it would turn into spring, and we'd stay out still. This time maybe we didn't need coats, maybe we could ride in a car instead of walk, but we could fall asleep in parks and wander out of town in search of signs to change.

Summer too. Warmer nights, but nights none the less. I don't know if any one of us saw the other in the light of day for months at a time. The night was really ours, in that simple way it could only be before we had the time money or age to make them ours in more conventional ways.

These restless nights and bouts of insomnia are mine, I think forever. Held here to me by some strange sentimental gravity that I can't seem to shake.