2:00 AM

It's quiet; so very uncharacteristic like it usually is throughout the rest of the day. A few lights to make up for sun, a few whispers to make up for noise, silence to make up for everything else just makes this time of day the strangest and most alien.

It's cool right now and the ground is wet. Streetlights cast diamond glitter upon the black pavement and amber cones in the air. Houses are silent, still, dark and seemingly lifeless only to play host to parasitic dust.

I stand here listening to the trickling of invisible streams of water from a roof down a gutter, from the eve of a garage onto the hood of some vehicle.

All around me is a dim pink light reflecting off of seemingly solid masses of water hundreds of feet above me, attempting to illuminate with all futility.

There is water in the air, just sparse enough to only be seen when the droplets pass the streetlights by mere inches and felt only when the few manage to strike nose or eyebrow or the back of my hand.

There is something I cannot see but hear, all the invisible trucks and cars and people outside and out of range of vision but somehow, the noises of movement, productivity, consumption all reach me, quietly and without distinction.

All around me, only plants stir as they are relieved of the weight of water only to stand tall to collect more. Vehicles sit idle, houses stand dark and streetlights illuminate black, wet, oily pavement for no one but themselves.

Trees twitch in the slightest breeze and above me the clouds shift only slightly to let anyone, or no one, know that time is passing by slowly but surely.

During the time of sleep, the time where night quickly and abruptly becomes day, masses of water fall, the air cools, and the ground becomes wet and silence only hears the sounds of water bouncing off of water.

It's cool, this evening, and dark. I feel like I am the only one witnessing all the nothings that happen in a short period of sleep.