by Tim Gilmore, 7/15/2012
Because, she said, there’s a majestic quality to night that, because of its quiet, causes my thoughts to be louder. I can hear myself at night. I become clear to myself at night.
And, he thought, because of the majestic quiet of night, this girl is clear to me, her presence is more present.
The nearby sandwich shop and India’s Restaurant, which serves the creamiest and most delicious Saag Paneer, and the Indian grocery and the karate studio, and the grocery store across the street, and the church and the video store are all emptied of people. Cars are sparse on Baymeadows late at night. The world is slower, quieter, more true, more itself. She thought that was the truth: the world is more true when most of us are asleep; the world is more the world when most of us are least paying attention.
When night is like this, he thinks, I love its loneliness, and when I’m not lonely in a night like this, I love the whole world and all of night.