This morning the moon was crescent, shining brilliantly in the hazy, dark blue morning sky. It hung above me as I walked to the bus stop and I remember looking at it and feeling happy. Everything was quiet. There I was, in this sleepy little neighbourhood, silently walking between houses. I could see my breath; my hands were cold. And it all seemed so mystical, somehow, like I was living the story of a character in a book. I was in love with everything- the empty streets, the abandoned cars, the starless sky. I quickened my pace, hurrying to catch my bus. Then I put on my gloves. “One day, I won’t have to commute,” I promised myself.
Tonight, I’m lying on a sofa bed, overlooking city buildings through big windows. One of them is open, letting in the fresh January air, and I can hear the soft purring of traffic down below. It’s peaceful. A horn just honked. I wonder who it is. Slowly, the lights in the buildings are turning off. Still, the traffic purrs. There aren’t any stars tonight, or maybe I just can’t see them. I wonder about the people who live in the still lit apartments. “One day, I’ll live here too, ” I promise myself.