To conform to societies wake at 7, in bed by 11 world is not for me. I've taken many an overnight job, to try and inject that heroin like fix, of dancing in the darkness. Was there some vampirical bat that sneaked in one night and changed my into who I am? Why must I eat bagels and eggs at in the morning? Why not at 2? Why must dinner be on the table the same time every evening? "You're invited," they say, explaining my arrival is expected at 6. I enter, the smell of stew simmers on the stove. My mind races as, I see the enormous bowls, licking my upper teeth, to make sure the evidence of my last meal, eaten only moments ago, is gone. Dessert by 7, maybe 8. Home by ten after some idle chatter and a Bailey's. 10 and their night is over as I set off into the night to start my day.
They say suns rays bring happiness and life, but it's the darkness that inspires me. The things that can't be seen have always interested me more than those which are always apparent. Strange noises stir my mind. No car horn or train whistle to remind me of the robotic lives we lead. The purr of a cat, the hoot of an owl and the strange noises of an old house, it's secrets never showing themselves. The heat from a pipe hisses, images of a floor of snakes, ones that would never show their fangs in the light. The crunch of the ground outside, I pull the curtain back, two eyes stare, we share a moment, two nocturnal beasts hunting for different things, they for food, maybe even shelter and I for meaning.
The darkness begins to fade and light tries mightily to force it's way in. My eyelids get heavy. It is my time to rest, to regain my strength to deal with the others. To face a world that doesn't know what I know; the magic of the dark. I see a pretty face and I smile. She looks as if she entered into the darkness longer than she wanted. She has conformed and her lack of sleep is apparent. My hand reaches, to invite her in to my world, but then I refrain. Will she bring me into hers and make me like all the others. Daytime zombies, hell bent on keeping a routine for which I have no use. I take a sip of my coffee, a bite of a bagel, I look down, hoping they don't see that I am not like them.