In the hush before dawn I sit and type by the dim glow of an ancient lamp. The sounds of the day have been silenced, and the low hum of an electrical choir- fridge, fan and router takes their place. From the bedroom, I can hear my boyfriend reaching for me in his sleep. He murmurs, waking briefly to find me gone from the bed, but used to my late night wanderings returns to his sleep.Translucent spiders crawl eerily in the lamplight, moving as if in slow motion as they prowl the dusty floor boards.
The sky has already begun to soften from a midnight blue to a dilute ink; silhouettes of trees and church yard begin to free themselves from the night which consumes them.
A solitary bird throbs summons the chorus to wake and greet the first rays of the sun