Late night quiet

Steven Baird

Late night, sitting outside on the balcony, sipping water, watching the collision of fireflies. There was a rare silence in the world, and a rare silence in his head. Tired, but satisfied. Happy? That was a blurry word. Did he ever know happiness, or was it above him, away from him? Once, maybe twice. Elani, she made him smile, a lot, but it was happiness he wanted for her and not for himself. Could he wish happiness upon someone else without saving some for himself? No, he was done with it. Hard work, a hot shower to wash the day off his back, and silence to conclude it. Loudness wanted him to drink, to crack open a bottle of something, but silence made him feel the pores of his skin.

***work in progress***

18 thoughts on “Late night quiet”

  6. I love this work in progress, Steven. I just stopped back to thank you for being a faithful reader. I hope you will continue writing and just as a side note. In almost all ancient tales, the one least expected always wins the day. There is no such thing as an underdog in writing. If you should publish a book in print, I would love to purchase it. Thank you for your inspiration and gorgeous images! Best always, Laine.

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    1. Thanks so much for your kind words, Laine. Some days it seems like the words are simply tossed around in the wind. I’ve always done it for the love of the language and a passion for the stories, and I doubt I’ll ever stop. And I truly do appreciate the tale of the underdog. Best of luck with all that you do, and thank you again for your generous encouragement. Steve

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  8. “…but the silence drew him into presense, and the awareness of the pores of his skin. ”

    Just an idea….use it if you like it….alter it if you get another idea…

    Peace and healing,
    Annie

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