The Night Sun

The night is not yet sleeping. And I am here in my peapod smiling to myself. The road lights seem glittery in their yellow luminescence, the petals of my orchids blushing to the gentle winds, all under the big bright night sun.

I was relishing the magnificence of this full moon night kissing my piece of chocolate rum cake. The other piece was mine too or at least I made it so. It was a piece of divinity that dropped my eyes shut, raised my head up in pride and took only one alphabet out. The “mmmm”.

The flipping of channels become more enjoyable, the opening and closing of the fridge becomes an amusing activity and the volume of this ordinary night increases when there is a sprinkle of sleep on my eyelids but trying to stay up becomes the ambition of the hour.

 Nighttime is when I come alive. Again.