Have you ever felt the curtains of light pressing down? Like they’re gonna sweep the floor with all their colors? Yeah, it’s been that kinda night up here in the North. The stars are talking in whispers, just they never do when it’s sunny.
Old Fred says he remembers when the lights didn’t flicker like that. Said it was just another Tuesday, not some cosmic drama rehearsal.
I’m told I ought to be scared of the long shadows. But truth is, I've seen things no bard has bothered to carve on their stones, that's why I try not to think, just feel, let the light's humming guide my steps.
Sometimes it feels like I'm target practice for “the unknown.” It reminds me of the time I got separated from the herd during the snow-rift of '24. Feeling lost and seeing the auroras wrapping around those hidden valleys, singing lullabies to the lost and lonely.
You wonder if we’ll be the last to hear the real stories, or if the lights are just keeping secrets known to the things that skitter beneath the snow.