I took a walk in the deserted hours of the night and only the chirping
of the crickets kept company.

A light sprinkling rain tickled my skin.

It was a moonless night and I slinked along in the inky darkness like a thief.

I creeped around the wooded trail and soon an obsidian shadow darted across my path;
the ebony feline and I were both on the prowl.

He paused and turned to me and I stopped short.  A moment of acknowledgement passed between us before he sprinted again.

When darkness falls, the world becomes a magical place – there is mystery and beauty and  elegance in the dead of night.

I think I may be part witch.


K.C. 9.1.14


About Casey

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’ ~ Jack Kerouac, On The Road Again
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