Night Comes We never go out at night. Not ever! We fear the dark. We hide ourselves inside the warm lit shelter of our homes, come the fading last rays of daylight, and do not venture out into the night. We do not go out at night! It has been that way as long as I can remember. Ever since I was a child. Ever since my father's father's father was a child. We of my village do not go out at night. There are dark things that creep in the twilight hours of our street, that come slinking, and shuffling, and moaning from the depths of the old forest that looms beyond our door, at the footsteps of our village. To move like shadows beneath the dim flickering glow of scattered lamp posts and the lanterns lit upon the lintel of our houses in silent hope to keep at bay what ere it is that comes, night after night. Oh brother mine, what madness possessed your soul, to drive you from our closed and bolted door, beyond our shuttered windows, out into the darkened gloom? Alas, your screams! I hear them still, though I was but a child not fully knowing what it was you dared as you paid no heed to father's warning, nor mother's pleas, but scoffed and boasted that you were a man and unafraid of shapeless shadows that moan and slither in the dark, like banshee sounds that howl in limb of tree, but is no more than passing wind. Such was our fears, you spat, as out into the gloom you went. And none dared follow to bring you back! At first there was silence. Then the sound, the faint rushing of half dragged feet, followed by your cry. I sat half frozen, by the shuttered window, trying desperately to peer out into the night, in awe and wonder. Then dread fear took hold as eyes peered back in at me through the crack, like burning coals of fire. Eyes devoid of thought, of feeling, or even life; yet consumed, so it seemed to me, with an endless hunger. I sat there, my heart not beating, my breath not moving, my blood not flowing, for an eternity, that passed quickly into a moment, as those dread eyes stared into my soul, then turned away, and shuffled back into the night – even as the sound of your cries faded dimly off into the silence. Whether you ran, in madness, or were chased, or were dragged thrashing and fighting, I can not say. I only know that darkened forms scurried back like drifting shades into the old forest, and come morning's first light, no trace of you or them remained. Ah, brother mine, now I know why it is we do not go out at night! ------ Word count: 470 Inspired by a Poe (who else)