sometimes the maze of hell and back can unfold without ever leaving your seat.
sometimes it takes hours longer than you think your eyes and heart can hold out, peering through the darkness, to get to the oh so crucial and back again.
and not sometimes, but always, you have to let the sun set before it can rise again on a new day–watch as it disappears beyond the horizon, pulling along with it all its colors and glory to wash away the past.
this night is a dark one to burrow into, fall having taken a strong grip on the year. but a glint of silken silver, a stripe of african blue, are better than anything ariadne left behind.
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