I only live at night. That is because life, real life is too much to take in its fullness, in its overwhelming daylight presence. I can only take limited portions of it, neatly separated and confined in the precise enclosure of the headlights. I try to ignore her when She is above and I keep my eyes on the road, the same road every night, the only road. She changes, night after night, like so many others, all of them One. Some nights She is not there at all, and the darkness seems heavy, I can feel the light of the headlights inching through the thickness, slicing with difficulty, bouncing back from the assault of shadows…
I find myself as if asleep, pushed forward by the impetus of a technological abomination, my fingers numb on the wheel, devoid of colour, lifeless. I think of Her and wonder if she is awake. Not her, another her, not that it matters, they are all One to me…I think I thought that once before. I think I thought this once before…She is asleep, I know it because the darkness is heavy again although she, the other, is still above, crowning the hills with frost.
The road is opening ahead in small lengths, as if I were on a bridge of sorts that composes itself a few meters in front of me only to crumble to dust behind me…Am I going towards her or running away from her? The night feels just the same either way…The road is almost empty at this hour, the only cars I meet are slowly floating, just like me, in odd directions, hands of light gripping the night, pulling forward, with the mindless will of machines…
Somewhere, beyond the headlights, the road ends in forgetfulness…
