While the world sleeps

I love the isolation of a black night. I feel invincible as I wander, creep, slink into the shadows, and duck out of the rare car’s illumination. There is something so powerful about being alert while the rest of the world is vulnerable and asleep. People, utterly defenseless, slumber away, thinking they are safely ensconced in their homes and beds. I prowl neighborhoods and break out in goose bumps when I see a cracked window, or better yet, try a random back door and find it unlocked. It is like being bestowed with a fine gift, so unexpected and yet so exhilarating.

Not to fear. I don’t really do anything indefensible during my nocturnal visits. I suppose if you awoke, you would scream bloody murder, maybe throw your lamp at me and try to grab the phone lying next to your bed. I would give you a good scare.

I don’t go on my jaunts to harm, only to challenge myself to drift in and out of others’ lives undetected. To enter a bedroom with its oblivious occupants, to hear their heavy breathing, to see them curled in the fetal position off in another world, gives me great pleasure. I have won. I have entered their private domains and have stood over them in their most helpless state. The moment is mine. I have the control to do anything. To me, there is no greater accomplishment.

But when daylight arrives, everything is transformed. The sunshine washes us in comforting warmth, erasing the anxieties and fears that arise late at night. All of our lives are on display, with us engineering what we want others to see. People are not real during the day. They are each playing a role. It is only at night when their true selves are allowed to come out and play without the constraints of self-made images. And that’s when they’ll find me, waiting for a chance to meet.