Plot Twist

man who sleeps under the stars.

Do I want to find shelter tonight, or shall I sleep beneath the stars?

It's late, after eleven, and the sky is clear, stars shimmering comfortingly in their places. They brighten the night, turning the epitome of darkness and cold into a beautiful work of art.

Usually I'd return to a bus stop and find a bench or something to sleep on, or hop the fence of an unfinished house under construction and sleep between the exposed wooden beams. But tonight I think I'll find a place to watch the sky.

Tonight's a good night, crisp and clear - perfect for a walk.

There's a national park fairly close to here, with a lake and a campground. But I don't have a tent. I just have my sleeping bag.

I walk along the street, out of the suburban area and into the park. A small trail leads to the lake. I take it, enveloped by the darkness among the trees. It takes a couple of minutes for my eyes to adjust from streetlamp-light to light filtering in from the moon, and I trip a couple of times on roots, but when they do, the forest appears more beautiful than ever.

An owl scares me, hooting from somewhere to my left. A flutter of wings and it's gone, off into the dark. The lake appears in front of me, and the trail opens up into a clearing of grass along the water.

I set down my sleeping bag in a grove of tall trees overlooking the lake. The stars seem brighter here than in the suburbs. My eyes have completely adjusted to their night vision, the moon providing the only light.

It's odd - I'm happier now than I've ever been, not having to worry about anything, appreciating the smaller things in life.

And as I drift off to sleep amid the trees, a single star plummets from its place, leaving a sparkling trail behind for a split second. Then it disappears, a tiny diamond falling below the horizon of blue velvet, mountains and darkness.