The Night We Slept
The door slammed and her footsteps could be heard echoing away. Silence reigned over the front porch as the darkness etched itself all around. Moonlight had a weakness for this darkness and choose not to challenge the night. This made the journey home for Malik all the more treacherous. He was a slight man with brown hair and dull blue eyes. Like a shirt that had been run through the washer one to many times. Although he was only 29 people could easily mistake him for a man in his mid 40s. Of course this was no fault of his own as the weight of living had simply overwhelmed him from an early age. Though not immediately obvious, given the constant facade he cast towards anyone foolish enough to try to observe his true nature, one could steal glimpses of his suffering if they laid in wait long enough. Malik was walking the stoned pathway that had become all to known to his slightly tattered pair of brown shoes. The worn out shoes seemed to match his hair color and his personality. Overused, stretching out at all sides and an apparent lack of sole. The bottoms of these shoes touched the ground with a heaviness, as if lifting up each time for its last gasp of air before the cold, murky water swallows you whole. Malik was not a proud man, as this had been evident just a few minutes earlier. When he mistakingly uttered the words that caused that bulky red door to be slammed shut so abruptly. Although, not proud, like many men of his elk, he knew his place and did not stand around waiting for the door to be reopened and forgiveness to be showered upon him. As forgiveness was not something he expected nor sought, "forgiveness is for those who've forgotten their place" he would often remark. So he walked and as his shadow became one with the emerging darkness, a soft light came beaming through the night striking the back of shoulders like warm rays on a beach. Malik stricken by paralysis froze but only for moment as he knew hesitation was the downfall of the weak. He pushed on and ignored the guiding light that would lead him to comfort and warmth, instead choosing the darkness that now consumed him.
