A Midnight Excursion

The accordion sways almost lazily... and my thoughts turn to your midnight excursions.

With a childlike curiosity, and a dog as faithful as the night, you explore the sombre forest looming above you.

The koel shrieks a staccato message. Perhaps it is calling out to a mate, perhaps it is marking your path.

Owls peer from their leafy hideouts. A blaze of fierce red-gold eyes light your way.

Peacocks rustle through the black, always by your side, forever out of sight.

Ghosts of flames long extinguished, stare glassily through the grey haze. Did your steady pace waver for an infinitesimal moment?

You look over your shoulder. The dog at your heels pants her anxiety, but her presence seems almost like a talisman.

You tiptoe through the cathedral of gnarled banyan and diaphanous jacaranda.

You push past the eight-legged sentinels and their silken gates.

The forest grows as quiet as a burning altar.

Shadows slip in and out of impossible gaps. You shake your head to free yourself of the visions.

And when the dark figures lean uncomfortably close, your talisman transforms into a huntress.

The neon fireflies of streetlamps dot an orange road.

Your measured, yet steady steps seek out that gate of bleached, corroded metal.

It is no prize, no portal to paradise, nor a clandestine escape route. It is simply something that must be sought out... Because, why not?

Skin makes contact with metal and suddenly, the air is so charged with electricity that you can almost see sparks whirling around you.

You break out into a run, cutting through the wind. You've left an empty gate behind. Or is there someone peering through the bars?

Cold sweat and arms that drum a maddening tempo, fuelled by adrenaline. You are halfway through.

The half-mark is sanctuary. The leaves murmur their approval as you catch your breath and will yourself not to look back.

The face at the gate dissolves between the bars. Your talisman falls into place with you, wagging her tail in relief. You are home.  To me.