In the Dark Hours of Night

The night is calmer now. When I decided to leave the party and head for bed the weather had become violent, as if the elements were angered by the celebrations and were now beating upon the door in protest.

I would have stayed up later, but I had that feeling, when one notices that every other adult in the room has a partner and you are the only person left who is completely alone in a crowd.

I said my goodnights, hugged a few good friends and shook hands with a few others and retreated up into the maze of corridors on the upper floors of the hotel, where everyone can have their own private kingdom until the morning.

The news was the usual quotidien round of moral disappointment and economic doomsaying as I made my preparations for bed; sometimes I wonder why I bother to watch it. I considered reading for a while and decided that I would enjoy my book more with a clear head.

Now in the dark, the breeze blowing over my bare legs there is silence, and though alone I feel content and I cannot explain why.

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