i watched the night leak through my window. under each wooden door. flooding the tiny rooms. saturating everything with its own shade of gray.
it came slowly. and made me think of the way women in a mid-life crisis sometimes blink their eyes when they get really sad. so heavy and lingering--they always linger. just like their perfume and cheap hotel rooms filled with cigarette smoke.
the darkness is like that, too. it's always there. faintly remaining.
until eventually it swallows you.