At the end of the week, of the day: a cool drink in a still warm street. And then, unlocking the doors. Opening the windows. A shower and a moment with closed eyes, in a rain of clear water. Tired. Silent. Serene. Nothing more that needs to be done today. Have a soft night wherever you are.
Once again, powering down. The day settles, the house yawns. Too warm, too cold and too many pillows to handle. Glasses empty. Rooms straightened, some thoughts piled, some appropriate shell put in place for the new mornings self. The possibility of sleep, the vague promises of dreams. Have a calm night wherever you are.
Later the evening. Just a week ahead, back here again, in the frame of a door facing soft lightlessness of calm nature. More water in the creek, a little more sound to be heard in the new leaves of the trees, and music, way more distant than in a passing city day. Gambling with thoughts, at this point everything is allowed to be unsorted and random. Have a calm night wherever you are.
Closing in on 10pm, cautiously as if this line of hours makes any difference in a particular evening. Windows open wide again to watch the city edging between restless business and restless sleep, eyes just half-opened then again to also watch the inner world somewhere in between the desire to keep moving, the desire to rest and the physical limitations encountered then and now. New dusk new dreams but like pieces of a puzzle, only matching to some unclear degree. Have a calm night wherever you are!
Finally, transcending into standby. Trying to keep open ends sorted while making sure music won't be playing for the rest of the night. Preserving some tabs, storing some notes, letting everything else quietly disappear with the last daylight. Traffic becoming noticeable as all other sounds fall asleep. A dream, but as a hope. Have a pleasant night wherever you are.