Method of Mancy

It’s a clear and beautiful night in the city, just barely dusk. The air is light and cool and the breeze wiggles my hair. The moon is glowing brightly, just a tiny sliver of a crescent, but it’s still backlit enough that you can see its whole shadow, a deep grey circle at the periphery. The dark blue of the evening fades to a muted orange at the horizon and planes and stars blink around the otherwise empty sky. 

I clutch my precious new plant against my chest–a gift from my lover the night before last. People mill about the streets, just beginning their nights out, but I’m only just finishing up my workday. As I walk down the sidewalk, I listen to people conversing across the street, the soft brush of traffic, the clicking of a dog’s footsteps ahead. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath of the night air. The world around me–it all feels so alive. My god, I feel so alive.