Now, I love the nights when I am alone. From my bed, I hear the rumble of cars, perhaps several words or laughter floating in the air from passerbys. But most of all, I hear the night breathing, sighing a breath. Calming down the world to rest for the night so that its gentle sibling, the dawn, will wake us up to fresh breath.<\/p>\n
The anxieties of the days drift away. They hesitate in the air, lost and unsure where to place their sticky fingers to raise blood pressure and grit teeth. I breathe in deeply and they flutter away like fallen leaves, crackling along the walls, then coming to rest on the carpet.<\/p>\n
I read now. Just like how I did more than twenty years ago before bed. I don’t clutch the hardcover books from the library, sometimes 15 borrowed at one time. Instead, I hold my devices, the electronic things that host dynamic text that I must scroll with a flick of the finger. There, the big flat metal rectangle holds treasures. Then the smaller one, the blue one hosts the words and a speakerphone. And then there is the black object, the size in between the flat metal rectangle and the blue one. I left up a cover, revealing what seems to be printed word and I move my finger across the text. It changes! <\/p>\n
And I drop into magical worlds. Slowly, my eyes start drifting close and I feel my body fall into my mattress, longing for the muscles to relax and let the night make its call. And so then, I let it go. The stillness falls and silence descends.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Now, I love the nights when I am alone. From my bed, I hear the rumble of cars, perhaps several words or laughter floating in the air from passerbys. But most of all, I hear the night breathing, sighing a … Continue reading