Overnight

Every 53 seconds, this city dies. For a moment, it stops, and it breathes. We allow ourselves to exist and be painfully aware of time, and age. People mourn, and then the breath is over. And it begins again.

This morning, I remembered all that I dreamed in the darkness. A phone ringing, a tapping on the window. Meaning, at just the right time. I must have smiled in my sleep.

I could be somewhere else today, but I am not. So I mourn, and I breathe. And in 52 seconds, it will begin again.