I walk in shadows now, most of the time. I once marked my days in the hours between memories made. Now I mark my days in the memories I am missing, in my isolation.
I am learning to appreciate the truth of sunshine again, after the lies of fluorescent light, in the place where the moon and stars used to hang, in the dark. I miss the moon and stars. I miss the dark.
I live in a cave now, thirty feet high, with the lights turned off, to remind me of what I thought I would not miss. It is not the same. But I tell myself that, when I look up at just the right angle, there is still a night sky above me. And a moon and stars, made of iron.
© Copyright 2016 William S. Friday