Him and the Night

               “It’s dark,” said the night.

               “Oh, is it?” he responded, “I can’t tell.” At least, he was pretty sure he was a he. He couldn’t actually imagine being anything else, so he decided that for the sake of convenience he would stick with what he thought he knew.

               “Are you sure it’s dark? How do you tell?”

               “I don’t really know,” the night thought out loud, “That’s just how things are, I guess. People have always said that it’s dark when I’m around.”

               “What do they say when you’re not around?”

               “I have no idea, because then I’m not close enough to hear what it is they’re saying.”

               “Hmm. Well, this is all very interesting,” said he, “Really, it is. But I feel like I really must be going.”

               “Yes? How do you know that?”

               “Same way that you know it’s dark. Because that’s just how it is. We know about ourselves because of what people say about us. So I know that I must continue walking because I say so.”

               “I see. People logic never really made any sense to me, but I suppose it would make sense to people. Else, why would they keep using it?”

               He felt like he was moving, and that was more than he had felt before, so he decided that it would be progress if he continued feeling that way. “Goodbye, night. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

               “Bye. See if you can find me once you’ve gotten where you’re going. Good luck.”

               He imagined himself gesturing in a way that would indicate that he was leaving, but none of it really made any sense. Anyway, the night was getting fuzzy, and this strange bright sensation began to cover him.

               “Hm, this isn’t night,” he was getting concerned that he would never arrive because everything was so confusing, “Now it’s not dark, it’s messy. This new night is messy.”

               And he was right. The area he was moving into was cluttered with all sorts of things that were coloured, and had mass. Now this was most confusing. The objects seemed to be separated, as if this new kind of night had hardened and then been smashed into a bunch of incongruous bits. And the bits obviously repelled each other, else why were they not sinking into and fading through each other?

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               I enjoyed writing this.

               I am slowly becoming more and more peeved that the blogger posting system does not contain an adequate indentation system.

               Also, I only really write from a male standpoint because I have never experienced life from any other perspective.