Short Story: Light and Dark

At a halfway to nine o’clock she sits reclined on a chair that is placed in front of a glass table on the wooden deck of the house, and stares to the sky as light turns to dark. The shadows begin to creep up from behind her as the clouds obscure the vision of the plausible moonlit sky, and in front of her, the clouds lightly scatter to demonstrate a creamy coloured heaven that slowly blends and fades into a pale cerulean as the sun slowly finishes its departure.

There is but a gentle breeze that only just displaces the leaves on the surrounding bushels of trees that are still basking in the green of their summer joy. However, upon a closer inspection from the keen eye you could indeed tell that perhaps a leaf or two here and there were indeed preparing for the autumn to come, for their once jaggedly plump edges were now crisping up to a shade of brown that one could easily identify death with.

It was truly a humid summer with days always providing a bath of perspiration to all the inhabitants who were brave enough to journey out into the heat of the sun, but the evenings, however, proved to be a cool haven for one to relax – after conquering the horde of mosquitoes that await you in the crisp evening breeze, that is.

The chirrup of crickets fill the air as do the sounds of rustling leaves and distant cars; the breeze caressing the ears of the girl and darkness taking over the world she has been watching – the shadows becoming quite vast and ominous.

The clouds contort and change in shape as she carries her wondering eyes over them, examining how the breeze moves them into different patterns, showing the true emotion of the heavens as the sky becomes minimal and engulfed by the surrounds.

There is the sound of what may be a gun shot, loud and obnoxious in the calm of the dusk that causes a brief moment of utter silence before the insects continue their song and thus, it is now, at a measly five minutes to the ninth hour that the female reclined in the chair in front of the glass table on the wooden deck of the house, can no longer see what was once visible in front of her.


This short was written by: PhoenixFireSoul


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