The sky is a blood orange. The day hesitates, is reluctant to give way to the darkness. The walls retain the heat of the September sun that caused the dogs to pant and lap up dishes of cold water. I battled my way through the hours, unable to drive, my attempt in vain, turning back half way into town. My body is a straight jacketed mummy, my bones irritable and resistant.
The sky deepens into shades of purple. The cypress trees on the hill are black jagged buildings that go unnoticed by daylight. Birds continue to sing and a basketball thuds on the driveway. Cars drive by too fast on this old country road and the dog, settles herself into a tidy curl on the side of the bed.
Deepening sky. And the field behind the house prepares itself for the fog and the dew laden gorse welcomes the busy spiders as they plan the evenings entertainment. The clock in the hall chimes on the hour and the half hour. Time a constant reminder. We cannot escape the encroachment of night. The end of a day that promised us much, only to have it garner so much more.