the Day for Night Project / 2017

NIGHT 1.0 ♱♱♱ The night had sprung a leak. The Milky Way had pushed back hard against the rising black abyss — causing the day to be lost in the moment. He stood there looking up, lost in his count of a million shards of light pouring down on him — not daring to blink or chance a breath, for fear that this momentary ecstasy which now conspired to define him, would be lost forever — on the exhale. ♱♱♱

DAY 1.1 ♱♱♱ It was a cold December morning, the coldest he could recall in recent years. A thin layer of powdered snow, lay beneath his feet. Each step he took triggered a sharp resounding crack, in response to the contact between the soles of his boots and the frozen ground below. Stopping for a moment, he looked back and spotted the boot imprints that he’d left behind — conspicuous markings of his movement across the pond — ephemeral mappings of his passage through time. ♱♱♱

NIGHT 2.0 ♱♱♱ He had first met her the night before. He had said hi and she had smiled back. It had seemed a sad and knowing smile, a Mona Lisa smile he had thought. He had begun to wander what lay behind that smile, its story and its journey and what events had conspired to have her standing before him at that very moment. ♱♱♱

DAY 2.1 ♱♱♱ He had wakened to the sound of the jackhammers and voices drilling through the paper-thin walls of his apartment. More condo developments were on their way. Shadows danced off the bedroom walls mimicking the condo’s progress. Each day the shadows grew longer and paler. Soon there would be no light.. ♱♱♱

NIGHT 3.0 ♱♱♱ He’d taken the last metro on the Silver Line to St. Mary’s. There had been only a few tired souls braving the trek at 2:00 am in the morning. She had been one of them. ♱♱♱

DAY 3.1 ♱♱♱ He found himself on a rooftop looking down at the mangle of hydro and phone wires that sliced the air — creating arbitrary grid patterns. What he enjoyed most in such moments were how the birds would perch themselves — balancing precariously like sentinels, guarding the unseen riches below. ♱♱♱

NIGHT 4.0 ♱♱♱ Her name was V. That all she was willing to reveal that first night. ♱♱♱

DAY 4.1 ♱♱♱ Phoebe the house cat has straddled herself onto his shoulders. She was happiest there, her purrs drowning out the monotonous drip from the kitchen tap. Many a time I had considered repairing the leak, but was unable to determine how or if this would affect my relationship to the cat.♱♱♱

NIGHT 5.0 ♱♱♱ As a child, he would wait for hours at the top of the stairs awaiting the arrival of his father. They had secretly agreed upon a rendezvous to watch Have Gun Will Travel, a western on the B/W TV set. At one point, the protagonist is shot and begins to bleed. Alarmed, he turns to father and asks — why is his blood black? ♱♱♱

DAY 5.1 ♱♱♱ The extraction had gone smoothly. The two back molars lay dormant before him, stained with specks of blood. ♱♱♱

NIGHT 6.0 ♱♱♱ He woke with a start. He had dreamt of V. He reached for his cell phone. The blue illuminated digits announced it was only 3:00 am. There was no way he could go back to sleep. It was still dark out. The construction crew would start up in a few hours.. ♱♱♱

DAY 6.1 ♱♱♱ V had called him that morning announcing that they should see a movie. It was the latest Spiderman. He recalled how Parker had been bitten by a spider — triggering his transformation ♱♱♱

NIGHT 7.0 ♱♱♱ That night he dreamt that he was Parker, and that V had been captured by one of Spiderman’s archenemy the Green Goblin, whose maniacal laughter had pierced through his own armored and well kept – secret identity.♱♱♱

DAY 7.1 ♱♱♱ Every day he’d take ritual walks around the hood, loosing himself to his thoughts — blind to his surroundings, or the people he’d encounter. However, today was an expectation. An event occurred which made him realize that for the past 20 years he’d been walking around in circles ♱♱♱

NIGHT 8.0 ♱♱♱ The TV screen had filled with white static. He sat transfixed unable to move. He had read somewhere that 1% of the static’s noise was a result of radiation — remnants from the Big Bang. He began wondering if extra-terrestrials weren’t perhaps using the noise for coded transmissions. ♱♱♱

DAY 8.1 ♱♱♱ He stared at a fixed point in space this space was abstract. made up of millions of possibilities. of atoms. of light. and numbers. the longer he stared, the more fixated he became. Inevitably, the point became as real as the rest of him. part of his reality. his identity. his lie. he could no longer turn back, or look away. ♱♱♱

NIGHT 9.0 ♱♱♱ V. watched in silence. as the night fell. censoring the hues of the indigo sky. knowing that the memories she’d built would some-day fade once again♱♱♱

DAY 9.1 ♱♱♱ He had made his way down to Division St. the flickering lights from a forgotten era. cracked. at the sound of his voice. from the corner of his eye, he thought he’d spotted a clocked figure, making its way down the alley amidst the impending darkness. fractured. lost. and forgotten. there seemed no escape ♱♱♱

NIGHT 10.0 ♱♱♱ he woke with a start. the rain had moved in hard — wiping all traces of V. of their night together of their chance encounter in the woods ♱♱♱

DAY 10.1 ♱♱♱ in a moment. of infinite sadness, he peeled away the light exposing the underbelly. of a fallen star. perplexed by the nature of his find he turned back. and realized. that only the self remained. ♱♱♱

NIGHT 11.0 ♱♱♱ V. came to realize that her life was defined by numbers which in turn was controlled by the passage of time. She’d begin and end her days by remembering the number of coffees, she ‘d drank, or the number of cigarettes she’d crushed beneath her feet Or the number of steps she’d take during her daily workouts in and around the neighborhood But when it came to the number of stars above her head, she remained in awe. She knew she would never be able to count them all. But each night she would lay back on that same patch of grass by the river and begin the count all over again ♱♱♱

DAY 11.1 ♱♱♱ Her bright orange wig added further to her surreal appearance generating a momentary smile across her face and making her wonder which Fellini movie she would best be suited for – then the smile left as quickly as it had first appeared. she pulled the wig off in one quick motion, exposing the bare surface ♱♱♱

NIGHT 12.0 ♱♱♱ He stood before the thundering sky. the sound of laughter and excitement roared from the crowd behind him. the spectacle was unfolding. V. was nowhere to be seen. ♱♱♱