Society's Nomenclature

One Winter Night

   It all happened on that winter night.

The 15th of December was a frigid reminder that no matter where you escaped to, your past would forever be tattooed on you. Days would turn to weeks, weeks into months, and eventually months into years. Years of running. Years of hiding. Futile escapes, but escapes nonetheless.

I was perched on a sofa beside the window, a mug of tea in my grasp and a blanket that cloaked my shame. Weary eyes would float to the view of the isolated street down below to the monstrous sky above that never seemed to quit being littered by stars. Stars that I once thought would take me home. Silence stretched the night into what almost became a peaceful hour.The corner of my lip lifted for a second, just to be dropped immediately at the sound of someone rapping upon the front door. Burying my head into the folds of the blanket, I groaned before rising in annoyance. The mug of tea was left to bear the wrath of a breeze as I opened the eager door. As I clutched onto the blanket with an uncertain hand, my gaze observed the scene, hoping to find the one who disturbed the silence that was warmer than a hearth's fire. No one seemed to be the culprit and nothing stood in the way to be deemed strong enough to produce such a noise. A slight tinge of disappointment at the lack of company pushed me back into my home as I shut the door. My bare feet met the sofa's plush pillows when the rapping occurred once more. Deciding to leave the stranger for another day, I lazily grounded my gaze outside my window. The fluorescent lights of the inner city danced on the street in the absence of the people who inhabited the street nightly. Their grace was pristine and held the utmost perfection in their twirls, shakes, bows, and slides. The blows of the wind motivated them to continue in their favor, striking harder, stronger, with even more fervor. Still, the occasional drop in sound persuaded the glimmering rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and quartz to waltz with the gifts of the snow. The tenderness was absolute. With care, the lights stepped around each other, over each other, and about each other. And with a final sight like that, I removed myself from the scene the window offered and tip toed my way up the carpeted stairs and into my bedroom.