Nocturne I

Nocturne I | DISPATCH By Scott Evers

Clock.

Funny thing.

Never notice how loud they are until the power goes out.

...

If you lose your place tonight...

don't worry.

I suspect I will too.

...

Excuse the attire.

Already in bed.

Power outage lowered the dress code considerably.

...

Got a candle.

Notebook.

Too many books.

Glass.

Thought about pouring a little whiskey.

Haven't yet.

...

Power's been out...

Hour maybe.

Last night it felt longer.

...

Or maybe that was tonight.

...

[clock]

...

Darkness isn't actually dark.

Takes your eyes a little while to forgive it.

...

Once they do...

the room comes back.

Different somehow.

Same room.

...

[crickets]

...

Sometimes I think every night opens into another one.

The way houses do in dreams.

You leave through one door...

already standing in another room.

No road between them.

Never seems strange until morning.

...

Never mind.

We'll blame the candle.

...

Wrote something down.

Didn't read it back.

Trust the fellow that wrote it.

He seemed honest enough.

...

Wonder what he'd think now.

...

Thought about pouring a little whiskey.

Not yet.

...

Suppose attention is what passes.

...

Not time.

...

Rocky.

You hear that too?

...

No.

Probably just the house settling.

Though houses seem to remember people.

...

[clock]

...

Stories are peculiar.

While you're inside them...

they're mostly little inconveniences.

Looking for the flashlight.

Wondering about the food in the freezer.

Trying to remember where the matches went.

Years later...

somehow they're about love.

...

Or somebody you miss.

...

There's one cricket outside.

Always just behind the others.

Or another one just like him.

Hard to know.

...

Never trust certainty.

...

I ought to write that down.

...

Too many books on the bed.

...

Maybe I already did.

...

[page turning]

...

Same handwriting.

Different fellow.

...

Last night...

No.

Tonight.

...

Doesn't seem to matter.

...

Had that feeling again.

Somebody walking from one house into another.

Not outside.

Inside.

Room after room.

Night after night.

Never arriving.

Never lost.

...

Thought about pouring a little whiskey.

...

Maybe I did.

...

Listen.

Clock.

Funny thing.

Never notice how loud they are until the power goes out.

...

Or perhaps you do.

...

Already in bed.

Thought I'd put these books away.

Didn't.

...

Seems they've settled in.

...

Notebook.

Glass.

Candle.

Funny thing.

Can't quite remember whether I ever poured that little whiskey.

...

Glass hasn't been much help.

...

Power's been out...

Hour maybe.

Though I have the feeling I've already wondered that.

...

Doesn't seem to matter.

...

[clock]

...

Your eyes eventually quit looking for the light.

They begin listening instead.

...

Didn't know eyes could do that.

...

[crickets]

...

Sometimes I think every night opens into another one.

Then I wonder if they were ever separate to begin with.

...

Dreams seem to understand.

...

Read what I'd written.

...

Don't remember writing it.

...

Still sounds true.

...

Funny.

The fellow writing by candlelight always seems calmer than the one reading in the dark.

...

Thought about pouring a little whiskey.

Seems I spend a fair amount of time thinking about that.

...

Funny calculation.

Suppose memories don't fade.

Suppose they simply become quieter...

until something remembers to ask for them.

...

Would explain old songs.

...

And certain smells.

...

Rocky.

Good girl.

...

Funny how dogs never seem confused about what night it is.

Only us.

...

[clock]

...

There's still that one cricket.

Or perhaps I've decided there should be.

Funny how quickly certainty starts dressing itself up as memory.

...

Stories don't change much.

People do.

Then we blame the stories.

...

I suppose that's only fair.

They never argue.

...

I ought to write that down.

...

Already have.

Not those words.

Close enough.

...

Too many books on the bed.

...

One of them's open.

Don't remember opening it.

...

Last night...

...

No.

Tonight.

...

No...

Last night.

...

Funny thing.

Beginning to suspect they're keeping one another company.

...

Had that feeling again.

As though somebody had just stepped into the next room.

Didn't hear a door.

Just the feeling.

...

Makes a house seem larger than it is.

...

Thought about pouring a little whiskey.

...

Maybe I did.

...

Candle's getting low.

...

If the power comes back...

leave the clock alone.

It knows what it's doing.

...

Listen.

...

No hurry.