final moments | autumn light | backyard
A late night, lingering and tired. Morning comes, the house empty and quiet. Shuffle outside, downstairs, grab the newspaper. Through still-squinting eyes, look up and address the Day already well along down the road. Feel the welcome returned against my cheeks, if a little chilled with disappointment at my tardiness. Back up the stairs. Settle into a chair. And blink. So quickly! Through west-facing windows evening is rushing in like bullion, catching me unawares.
Why, Day, I ask, are you leaving so soon?
Soon? She replies, belying her exasperation. I’ve been waiting for you for hours, just outside the door.
But why didn’t you knock?
Knock? Why would I? I’ve no interest in asking to come inside to your world of keystrokes and calendar alerts! It’s you, Son, who has been missing out; you who should have knocked at my door. But no matter – come, it’s not too late, I’ll hold the final scene. Walk with me through your backyard, and I’ll leave you with a glimpse of what you’ve been missing...