Free Write

My father is a night owl, a man with his senses acute when the rest of us are drifting off to dreamland. I could not remember a single second in my fourteen years of life when he isn't out watching the stars on our balcony, or once when he isn't embracing the cool night's breeze when the midnight bells rang. " Night is my best companion, a person who would sit and listen to your stories and show you hers without hesitance. Day light shows too much, " he said. " And hides too much." A wisp of shadow is good enough, a plain old world: constant, loyal, simple, no lies. Of course, people tend to argue about darkness signifying a no lie zone being irrational, and to that, my father has his own set of explanation, " Darkness can signifying filthy little creatures lurking in the dark, or it could be a simple blank of space with beautiful things. Speaking of which, did you know that the stars were extra bright last night?" To this point I always laugh, and so do the others. We don't know why we find it funny, but we do .  " Dad, are you born a night owl or have you trained yourself to become one?" I remembered myself asking him one night on the balcony when no stars shone. " A little bit of both...Hey! You see that shining red dot over there? Must be an airplane! Go get your brother, man, this doesn't look like a regular one, it looked like..." To me, it looked like my father, embracing and loving the shadows on a dark dark night.