10 p.m.

He lightly pulls me into the night, collar jingling happily at the end of his retractable leash. A lone streetlight throws amber waves of tungsten illumination at my ill adjusted pupils.

The old Episcopal Church sits empty, tall leaded windows flank both sides of this simple house of worship. Tall windows built before we had harnessed the night with our glass-enclosed filaments and buzzing electrical currents.

Above me a screech, then an owl floating from Oak to Cedar, Cedar to Hemlock and perhaps back to Oak again.

No wind stirs the leafless branches tonight.

A blooming tree gives off a fragrant reminder that Spring is now your companion, taking you by the hand and slowly leading you into the long haze of a Summer that will soon be upon us.

These still evenings on glowing side streets are a kind of unrelenting redemption.


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