art by Wi Waffles
by Jayson Sanders
You arrive at dusk as you always do, during that fragile moment when a thin, orange ribbon struggles to restrain the onrushing blackness.
For one sweet, pregnant moment you pause, and we are like a child, in a world all his own, watched by a loving mother he does not see.
"Bedtime, children." Your clear voice rings out for all to hear, eliciting a chorus of groans from around the world. "No! Pleeeease, just a little longer. We're not done yet."