Shadow

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This is something I wrote a while ago, that I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue. Vote and comment, tell me what you think? I may continue it if I get enough good comments.

 

Shadow. Such a normal word until you enter my world. In yours, a shadow is something to be feared by children, something to write off, something to ignore. In your world, a shadow is something insignificant. But in mine, a shadow is something to be treasured. Now understand, shadows are chased by the light, causing them to flee with the flick of a switch. But when night falls with the setting of the sun, the entire city is cast into shadow. Like a giant awakened, my city rises when the shadow floods the ground. Flip as many switches as you like, you can never send the shadow beyond the window panes into oblivion. So you sequester yourself in the flimsy confines of your home, never realizing the true nature of the shadows you fear.

 

I am pulled to the dark alleyways, or clefts between buildings, by a force I cannot explain, simply so I can feel the shadow wrap me in its dark arms. Safety, anonymity, seclusion. These are the words I use when describing shadow.

Crouched in my alley, the noise of the people scurrying to and fro fills my ears. I watch with intelligent eyes, waiting, evaluating. What wonderful secrets these people posses, as they go about their lives. Love, hate, malice, fear. All is visible from my shadow, as it caresses and holds me.

Secrets are currency to be traded and used. Secret and shadow encircle on another, like a yin yang. I pull open the top of my shirt and stare at the ink that was injected into my skin, a dark side and a light side, forever encircling one another. Canceling one another out, while bolstering each other’s strength. A battle, a loving relationship in which I revel.

A bird cries above me, and my head turns to the east to see the first ray of the cursed sun punching through my shadows. I mourn for my lost shadows a moment, then turn for home, for sleep. While my footsteps echo on the cement in the early morning, I raise my middle finger to the sun with a smile. In hours, the night will be mine again.  

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