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It was one night - in the light - after midnight.

After a little too much coffee and quite a bit of Patsy Cline - "Walking After Midnight", ofcourse.
I decided I needed some air: some space. What is more space than outside - after midnight.

I journeyed down the road outside my house. Under the street lamp I saw him. Being that it was dark - I watched from a distance. He had a profile sent from the heavens, and even though I was miles away - so it seemed - I could smell his cigar. It was a sweet smell that pierced my lungs - in the dark - after midnight.

I couldn't keep my body from drawing itself closer to the stranger. He appeared as a long needed comfort - sometime after midnight.

As I approach the light - I remember the friends I left sitting at my house - probably a little concerned by now at my unusual anti-social behavior.

I turned to depart, to refuse my bodies cry to move towards the light - and him.
But then I heard it, an eerie cry speaking my name. Did it come from the stranger? I turned to face him again. The street lamp had blown out, but the moonlight shadowed his face. He was looking at me. I hesitantly said, half under my breath, "are you calling me?". The stone cold face of the stranger said he had been calling me for hours, but I was unwilling to listen. He walked out of the light and towards me. My ability to breath left me, and my heart pounded like it was trying to explode in my chest.

I gave in and walked towards him, he turned away as though to retreat. The light came on, and there he was - yet again. I walked into the light. He embraced me. I closed my eyes. I went numb.

I opened my eyes to see thin air - in the light - after midnight.

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