My windows are open. There is a near-tangible Stillness in the crisp air. The hard drive hums, an ice cube snaps, and, somewhere in the blackness, an alley cat yowls sharply.
Even Lilly slips by quietly on padded paws, saying nothing to break the night's silence.
I cannot see, but imagine an Icy White Holy Moon sitting hanging gazing in the Ink-stained Old Midnight Sky. I don't look, but imagine Shiny Slick Dew Frost on green green grass in open fields of my mind. A shadow cast tree holds perfectly motionless in the calm nothing night. It's holding its breath till dawn.
And so am I.