In the dark he could see outlines of buildings, houses, a red traffic light blinked on and off. These early morning hours. He’d spend them alone. Coffee brewed, cats played, she slept down the hallway. There was a peace.
The street lights would glow a blue hue. The silver moon shined down on earth. Enough to make your way home. He walked outside on the deck. Looked at clouds forming as the sun came up. Grey clouds. Snow carrying clouds. He took a sip of joe and lit a cigarette. Gave thanks.
He prayed while the Marlboro danced on his lips. Mumbling about the season, the Christ child, his family, his love. The man was truly thankful.
And the dark was no longer dark. A sky of orange and purple. Snow starting to stick. The winter season had begun. Happy Solstice.