The times when I am most afraid is just before night falls. The sun is setting, the day has finished and this inevitable silence begins to prowl throughout the house. Everything seems to change and take shape of a form that is unfamiliar and dull, losing any significance it had just a few hours earlier. Becoming suddenly aware of ever possible sound that comes from the walls, the floor, the breeze that flutters the cotton drapes is incredibly frightening.
All that is left to do is lay beneath the quilts on the bed, staring out the window into the deep blue sky that has swallowed the sun for another night. My thoughts bellowing inside my body as if it has only this one moment to speak to me. Tomorrow seems unimaginable, illusory, a dream that seems to end before it has started. Everything becomes out of reach in a sense that I am no longer burdened with the everyday struggle to be without having to ask. An experience that feels both make-believe and awfully real. Have I gone insane, or just reach a level of true helplessness and vulnerability that even my nightmares become increasingly intriguing.
For now I will forget the mysteries of life and my place in this universe, and retreat to the slumber that takes my frightened hand and guides me to a place where fish walk on land and we have tea parties on tree branches. A place that is marvelous and peaceful, one that feels more real every time I visit.
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