Winter Rains

Darkness kept me company tonight. Through a neighbour's window, she stealthily sent her mist in- the smell of freshly wetted soil- dancing on tiptoes, entrancing me, and soon I was wondering what lay beyond those high bars? What were these white picket fences keeping safe? Where did those narrow paths lead to, paths which were skirted with dimly lit low-lying trees that looked like hunchbacked dwarves- quiet, solemn looking dwarves that stood guard to the path and stared at the passers-by. Them silent companions of darkness.

Maybe a witch lived beyond those pebbled roads in a little thatched hut which bellowed out white and black smoke in perfect ringlets like a seasoned smoker, a stone-walled hut with cobwebbed creaky doors dully lit by jars of captive fireflies that blinked and shone in a perfectly choreographed symphony. Maybe she was the one that sent me the paper boat that floated down the little rivulet the chilly winter showers had drawn up- an invitation to waltz with her to the songs of crickets in the dark woods. She even offered to share the thick, grey blanket she'd stolen from the clouds- she knew me too well, that wild temptress, it was an offer too tempting to refuse.

Just as I let her darkness consume me, bewitch me, beguile me, the bright city lights ripped through my reverie, the smoke filled miasma displaced all traces of petrichor out of my lungs, and just like that, my chimera was snatched away. As I fought against the vortex of reality that was sucking me in, a faint cackle erupted from those lovely dark woods- she knew, that moony temptress, she knew I'd sold her my soul.