Thoughts on life, love and faith by Plasticmind.

The night is bright here with an artificial light. Stale, crisp blue and orange lights flood the hard edges of the trucks and cement, making everything pale and unnaturally colored. The night is also quiet save the enormous growl and snarl of long wide-eyed monsters - dirty, smoking and tired. The air moves inconspicuously from somewhere down the dark road and stops here to explore - to inquire lazily at each gas pump and window. Past the mirrored image of inverse neon signs and deep-orange clouds, two men with matted gray hair and full beards stare into their coffee. A sleepy waitress moves around slowly, aware only of her work; and yet she wears a distanced face as if tomorrow held something dreaded or perhaps pleasant. Everything is so unusually still and somehow I feel much more alive - it is late, but my senses are keenly aware.