"What do you think of it then? Huh? You like it?"...."I'd swear I thought it was tomorrow, OK... hold on"... "Those were the days, in the Suburbs"... "I really know how to cook it. Just right."... "We're nearly there, put your feet down."... "Up against that tree."... "I think we can get this done by Wednesday. 'Thinks it's exciting. Pick the right one."
Sitting on a bench in a park in a suburb. It is late, probably 2AM, enough that there are still a few wandering heads to disrupt the silence. Should the park even be open. It wouldn't be. It would be closed, or at least hard to get into. They did this up. The lights on the horizon would come together into a yellow haze. No stars. Never any stars.
There would be a good jam. A silent moment. This person is escaping responsibly. This person is looking out over the water. This person is escaping. This person is not usually in this situation. This person has broken off from the group, a new group, who have disrupted expectations. This person is only newly able for this. Of age. Old enough. This person is not dressed for the occasion.
This person decides no clothes are needed where they are going. This person joins the group. Submerged. This person is now wet and cold. This person is happy despite their new situation. This person takes a moment. Between laps of salty cold. This person notices how the moon is hanging lower and larger than usual. This person only hears the lapping water and a jingle in the distance. This person presumes it is the buoys in the wind. This person sees the moon. This person hears the panic. This person is running half dressed into the shadows. This person is laughing as silently as possible between deep breaths.
This person escapes with another to a safer spot.
These people are isolated and alone. These people are happy to be. These people seize the moment. These people are at full speed. This moment is frozen like their toes. This moment is breathless. This moment is a heartbeat hard against ribs. This moment is caught in a throat. This moment stops all other moments. This moment is too slow for sound. This moment is too dense for light. This moment will break two souls in time. This moment will live past that.
And breathe. And smile. And gather your stuff. And walk to the next open room. And eat the next hot thing. And fall asleep on the next soft surface. And have nothing to wake for. And close new light out. And smile. And Wake.