Eyes Open

Opening his eyes late in the day,
Sunshine burns his eyes…
Cool the night was and beautiful the stars,
And now the harshness of day.
Rushing for the shadows, he longs for the twilight.

Inspired by the story “Creature of the Night, Lady of the Day” by Alyssa Plock:

He never slept, so he made an asset of it. He was a midnight explorer, an observer of the back streets, a watchman on the wall. Occasionally, he would eavesdrop on the police scanners and follow behind the action at a good distance, but mostly he just drew.

He kept a flashlight in a small pack, along with a seemingly endless supply of batteries. And he drew the phantoms of everyday objects that no one would look twice at during a walk to work. A light pole, a porch, a house. These were his companions in his lonely watch.

Then one day, just as he was turning in as the dawn came in, he noticed a new shadow. It was new to him, anyway. The shade was seated on a bench, just waiting, still as the night. He drew it. And he was drawn to it.

As the first light made all of his night friends disappear into their daylight disguises, he heard the scratch scricth of a pencil. And the shade on the bench turned into a radiant woman with a sketch book on her lap.

Ready as he was to disappear into a dark room to sleep, he let down his guard and approached her.

“Hello, what are you doing here at this time of day?” He asked.

“Oh,” she said sweetly, “I am always here.”

“Me too. I have never seen you before,” he said.

“Do you leave before daylight?” She asked.


“I always get up to draw the dawn,” she said as the first light brightened her green eyes.

“I draw the night.”

After admiring each other’s pictures for a few moments, a bit of sorrow filled them both. Attracted as they were to each other, they knew it would never work. For his inspiration could never leave the dark and hers could never leave the light. The man slowly walked away without even a glance back over his shoulder at this lady of the day.


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