Day Ten - Another Itty Bitty Story

Here is Part One of a short (short) story that I've been working on. I will post the second half of the story tomorrow as the ending needs a few more edits and I'm already cutting it down to the wire as it is. The editing process can be so tedious sometimes...so much hinges on just a single word when you're writing in a condensed form...but it's worth it!!

In the early morning hours, when his insomnia would catch up to him and refuse to let him go, Dusk would roam his apartment like a tortured spirit unable to find peace in the hereafter. It was during this time that he did his best thinking and his best self-loathing. The longer Dusk stayed awake, aimlessly drifting through the shadows of his darkened apartment, mired in his loneliness, the stronger his self-loathing became. What was wrong with him? Why was he always alone?

Try as he may, Dusk couldn’t shake his stubborn feelings of melancholy and self-doubt. Dusk went about his routine that day as usual but his despair hovered over him like a cloud of ravenous gnats that refused to be dispersed no matter how violently he swatted them away. Dusk tried reading one of the books from the giant stack on his nightstand in an effort to focus on someone else’s problems. He tried listening to some of his favorite records, the ones that always cheered him up when he was feeling blue. When he was hungry, he made himself a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Yet, as the hours passed, the cloud of gnats grew thicker and more persistent. Dusk decided to visit his friend, Night, to discuss the problem. Whereas Dusk allowed his myriad neuroses to cloud his judgment, Night was always rational and clear thinking. Night never let feelings cloud his vision when it mattered. Maybe Night would be able to understand what he was going through, why he felt so sad. Maybe Night would know why he was always alone.

As Dusk meandered along the tree lined street that lead to his friend’s house, the cloud of gnats anxiously swarmed about his head. Shuffling on leaden feet, Dusk considered his life thus far. The longer he turned his life over and over in his mind as if it were an apple he was rinsing under a faucet, the more Dusk felt his life was full of mistakes. All, essentially, the same mistake endlessly repeated. One after another, after another. So, here he was again, turning to Night for help because he was utterly lost. Again. And he hoped Night could save him. Again.