Dreams Of A Moonlight Wanderer

The Professor

At the house in the dead of night,

An argument can be heard between Father and Son,

In a small kitchen the father has no business being in.

Disappointment can be seen on the Father's face, I can't remember the reason.

He then swallowed a hard pill,

And left the kitchen for what may be the last time, turning his back to my kitchen light.

Walking past my bed against the window,

And down the porch steps to the backyard walkway. Walking into the ocean of black in the night.

I watched his black truck's headlights illuminate the yard, even the steps, revealing every crack,

As he pulled out of the driveway,

Gravel rumbling beneath his exit into the black.

I'm left with the silence of an empty kitchen,

And an empty yard hidden behind a curtain of darkness,

With the exception of a small bit of walkway leading to my window.

The porch light flickering, dwindling. I thought about my Father's shunning,

But the night goes on and I listen to the washer with the water running, running, running.

I might've walked out after my Father to make right on our argument,

But it's warm in here,

With the heated house and foggy windows, I knew contentment.

He went off into the cold winter night,

You can't see anything out there,

Anything could be lurking in those shadows.

I feel a chill run down my spine at the very thought.

I look up through the window, wiping away the fog, feeling like I'm looking down the gallows.

It's dark,

All I see is the walkway outside the door by my bed.

I grab my phone and shine a light out into the yard. The light flickers then... dead.

There was nothing but frosted grass and a long empty walkway.

I put my phone down and let out a sigh of relief, again, I feel fine.

I rest my weary head down to sleep until I get another strange feeling,

Another chill runs down my spine.

I feel like there's something I should be doing but I'm too comfortable to move.

I consider fighting the feeling and forcing myself to sleep but what can I say?

What could possibly be the harm in checking?

I lift my head and look to walkway,

Something's moving in the dark.

There's a tall man in a suit,

Carrying a briefcase coming to the door at a fast walking pace,

I don't see any sign of legs moving, with a calm and composed face,