Generally speaking, I'm not much of a fiction writer (even if my aunt is a published children's author)... But as it tends to do, insomnia knocked on my door tonight and let itself in. So, as I sat at my window, watching, listening, and thinking, this idea came with it.
Early Morning Observations
The pitter patter of rain.
A cricket or two chirping.
The rustling of the leaves in the tree.
The lights in the parking lot brighten the dark morning.
Neighbors are conversing, but their conversations are muddled.
The soft glow of a church light brightens the sky around it.
Others are awake, but I don't see them.
I hear rolling, like wheels on a suitcase, but don't see it.
My phone emits a soft glow with the notification of a message.
Two people walk down the hill near the building.
I fight a slight shiver, and continue to watch.
My open blinds wave back and forth in the slight breeze.
Some birds chirp in the distance.
A few cars pass in silence.
What sounds like machinery digging permeates the silent night.
I hear the clacking of keys and keychains as someone walks to their car.
I wonder where they're going as they leave...
Hoping they remember to turn on their lights.
I realize the machinery is just the garbage truck.
It's then I realize that this small town has done so much for me...
And I grasp the notion I'm slowly becoming something.
I don't know what that something is... But I think I'm liking it.
I guess only time will tell. It's nights like these that my mind wanders.
And for now, I'm going to let it do just that, and see where I wind up.