Pigs On The Wings

She hates twilight. She has hated it for as long as she can remember. More so, as it descends on a city that isn't her home. She had only ever told him and no one else. As the darkness seeps in, blotting away the last light of the day, she contemplates her heightening desolation. The peace of living outside of her real life, for a day, is rudely overtaken by the crowding feeling of isolation. In a city brimming with people, company was just a dial away. But it is not a warm shoulder or a chilled drink that she seeks. She misses her happy disposition and her effortless smile. Perhaps it is the spill over tiredness from the last few days, perhaps it is the mistake of giving too much of herself. This will have to go away she tells herself, as she curls up in bed, waiting for sleep.