Thousand: Six Hundred Eighty-Two

is a nice night, isn’t it? You can hear the soft silence of everything, sleeping. Unlike those other sorts of nights where you can hear the hard silence of everything, tensely waiting. There aren’t any words to this song. Nobody needs words anymore. Glow. The girl and the angel are walking side by side now. In fact, the angel seems to be lagging a bit. Not that he’s slowing her down. She’s feeling good, knows where each foot needs to go. The moon peeks up at the horizon, rises a ways, not far enough to do more than push a