Morning

previous part

You can decide how the weather shifts overnight. In the morning, you find a blackberry vine.

You could wake up chilled. The clouds have thinned, but they still conceal the sun behind them. The air is warming, but you shiver. You pick a blackberry, cool and wet with last night's rain. It's mostly ripened except for a patch of purple one one side. You put it into your mouth, and tart berry juice mixes with rainwater and runs down your throat. It stings a bit, but it tastes good. The next one is sweeter.

You might wake up warm. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. The heat and humidity are nearly unbearable, but you discover the blackberry vine growing in the sun before you retreat into the forest. You choose a berry that falls off in your hand. It is soft and warm, and you think for a second that it tastes like sunshine, before you remember the real sun beating down on your face.

You pick berries until you can't find any ripe ones. The vines don't let their fruit go easily. They catch your hands and arms with thorns, leaving behind stinging scratches as a warning that you choose to ignore. You stop, finally, take a breath and absentmindedly pull a blackberry thorn from your hand.

The pain startles you. A trickle of blood starts to flow down your hand, and as you move your other hand to stop it, you forget where you are. You open your eyes.

The thorn is still there. The blackberries aren't.

part 3

Close your eyes

Imagine for a second:

It's a summer evening. You find yourself in a forest clearing. The air is still, warm, and heavy with humidity. Thick clouds cover the sky, and if you stand still enough, you might notice a raindrop on your face.

Close your eyes. The last hint of sunset has disappeared from the sky. It's dark in the shadow of the trees, but here there will be enough light to see for a while longer.

You step into the wet grass, and it sticks to your feet. You reach for a green leaf laden with water droplets that roll down onto your hand when you touch it.

You breathe in the smell of the rain, listen to the rhythm it makes on the leaves. No other sound interrupts it. The world is quiet.

Now stay there. Drink rainwater from your cupped hands; sleep in the grass until the sun rises. Don't open your eyes again, because when you do, you'll remember that reality is never so peaceful.

Part 2

I am awake

Written 2/23

I don't want to get up tomorrow. A new day is a fearsome thing, too long and too uncertain. So I will stay stubbornly open-eyed in the dark, refusing sleep and refusing to admit that today is over. The clock on my nightstand blinks neon green and assures me that the future is approaching. I cannot fight that. But while I watch the hours creep closer to dawn, at least I can pretend.

Maybe I've solved why I like night hours so much.