Prelude 1: Night's Surrender

Mostly, things happen to us that we expect. Night surrenders to day; the slow illumination of dawn begins; the gradual crescendo to the noise of a bustling day. We've known it all before.
Night's surrender infects each of us: distorts, depending on our mood, transforms, depending on our experience.
Our nights always surrender to this budding of day.

Hahahaa! The budding of day? How very simplistic! How pathetically naive!
Nights don't surrender to the flowering of the light! They step back, perhaps, but never -ever - do nights surrender.

Night becomes invisible.
It becomes an empty stage. Noiseless. Ghost-ridden. Expectant.