waiting for the light

I moved my chair so I can see the lamppost through the window.

I know I would probably be able to see the light from anywhere in the room if the lamp were lit, but I like having a direct view. It makes me feel more secure, somehow, to be able to glance up from a book and see it, stalwart. Still dark.

It’s really quite clever, a lamp that only lights when you’re near.

Now I can’t stop checking it, even though it’s been dark for so long.

If it turns on again, I don’t want to miss it.

In case someday, somehow, you come back.

I’ll have a warning.

I just hope it will give me enough time to run.


About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

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