Awake too long. Can't sleep., on the heels of a long shift at work, full of night magic.
I wake gentle souls over and over. They reach for my hand and whisper groggy confessions, and tell me what they were doing in their dreams,
I was getting ready to jump from the Ferris wheel...
...I was riding whales.
I was singing lullabies in a choir...
...I was sliding on a frozen waterfall.
Night shift is a lot like Vegas.
What happens there, stays there.
No one see's it or would ever believe it. Except those arduous souls who span the stretch of midnight with open arms. Night people are the anchors who hold the world of light in place. We keep the order while the chaos of dreams tries to unravel sanity.
In the hush of the darkness everything stands still. A pause between hearts beats. I'm on watch, keeper of the time. Holder of the keys. My job to hand my charges over safe and sound to those light walkers who rise with the sun.
"How was your night?" they always ask.
"It was a quiet night." I say keeping all the magic to my self. I clock out with a full heart and joyous soul carrying all the special moments with me hidden, unspoken.
"Don't you ever get tired of working nights?" they sometimes ask.
"No." I smile and turn and jump from the Ferris wheel.