It is late. It is well past midnight. I feel the crisp night air brush against my skin as if being pulsated by the chorus of crickets… chirping in tiny gulps of the same cool air and escaping in a whistle like sound, ringing in my ears.
I ought to be in bed. Curled up like a cacoon around my daughter. Instead, restless with a voice and story that wont quite leave my head, I came outside.
My house is quiet, my boys are finally sleeping sound in their beds in the other room. My daughter in my room, probably clutching my warm pillow, lulled by my familiar scent that lingers when I leave our bed.
Like a ninja I creep through the dark hallway, tiptoeing over the wreckage my toddler made today. Curious to see if I can find a moment or two, maybe three just for me.
Another sound...