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Fading Night
by Sara Harricharan 
01/09/08
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I'm flying away tonight.

On the back of the night wind.

When it dips below the magical layer of sunset and a new day, it flies right by my window with the scent of everything alive.

I love the scent of rain.

It makes me think God is closer. I feel as if He's standing right outside my window and watering the flowers I can't see.

I haven't see anything since I was born.

But through my bedroom window. I think I see everything.

I'm told the sky is blue. I think that's the color of the morning wind. It's light and cool to the touch.

The sunset is supposed to be blue and pink and orange. I think pink is the color of my mother. She's soft and sweet-smelling.

Orange must be like the fruit. Bright and sometimes sour!

I imagine all of them swirled together, like my sheets in the morning after a summer night.

Maddy says clouds look like whipped cream, all soft and piled up together like fresh socks.

I like fresh socks.

They make my feet happy.

Through my window, I think there's a whole new world that nobody ever sees.

I've tried to show it to Maddy, but for some reason she can't see it.

Maybe she's too grown-up.

I don't think twelve is too grown-up yet. I like being twelve. It's fun.

Tonight I am waiting for the wind. It's taking longer than usual. I guess it's a little tired.

I'm getting tired too.

Maybe I'd better say goodnight in case I fall asleep.

"Good night!" I whisper out the window, imagining my whisper to be the wind that curls around me before blowing out the window.

The night is fading.

And so am I.

Copyright 2008


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