An Ode to Darkness

It was scary as a kid. It’s such a silly thing to be afraid of, right? Sleeping was a nightmare, always on the lookout for any monsters that may lurk in the shadows. Wild things. Nobody knows what they seek. Nobody even knows what they look like—it’s too dark to tell. But they were there, I knew that for sure.

Now I’m twenty, cruising through the middle of nowhere in Maine. Nothing illuminates the unmarked road ahead except the high beams of the car. Snow constantly pelts the windshield as the trees zoom past both sides. The snow turns into a portal as the branches offer their sharp claws to me—an invitation.

Six hours waiting for the train. Drunk Bruins fans swarm Boston’s north station. A man pleads for money to buy a bus ticket to go see his son. He has no choice. A kind stranger offers some cash. The man takes it, thanking them and apologizing for the clamor. The train finally boards and takes off. The glowing lights of the city slowly fade away, replaced by the cold, unforgiving mist of the night. I welcome it in.

I’ve come to appreciate it now. I’ve met the monsters, and they aren’t all too bad. In fact, they’re kind of fun to be around. Can’t hang for too long, however—the sun eventually rises every morning. I don’t mind, though. I’ll be able to see them soon. All it takes is for it to set again.