There is darkness in the realm of Sydney at the current moment.
Well, it might be morning later, but right now it is darkness.
Clouds drift on by in a silent stealth that is likely to be ignored as people look forward and down, but seldom up.
Across the sky, across the cityscape they move on toward a destination that is not yet determined.
Birds move from tree to tree, from ground to air and anywhere else that they so choose to desire.
People move along their way to wherever they need to be. Some are heading home to relax, to be with family and to take it easy. Some are heading to jobs where they work in the evening, preferring to avoid the business, or perhaps due to the preference to be busy.
Maybe it has to do with getting the only work that they can work.
There may be others heading out for enjoyment, for relaxation, or for artistic pursuits that they find fulfilling.
Indeed, in the darkening hours the city can be as lively as it can be in the morning before many of those in the city head to their jobs in offices and other locations.
The park, whilst perhaps not in large amounts of use, seems as alive as it is most of the time.
The motion blurs into a mass of people almost indistinct, flowing like a river if not needing to stop at lights to be allowed to cross safely.
Traffic weaves in and out of itself, congealing and separating, pumping around the roads that are set out to guide the vehicles to their various destinations.
It is dark. The city is light up and the stars are hidden from view by the lights and the clouds.
People make their way home not wondering where the stars have gone, nor why there are clouds drifting across the sky. They aren’t thinking about where the sky has gone as they are tired, or thinking about other things that have occupied their mind.
Their sense of wonder is still there, albeit significantly muted. Far more muted than what it should be in many cases.
However, people are dreaming and many of them are dreaming big. Whilst they throb with the crowd around them on their commutes through the city and its arteries, they dare to dream big and outside of the crowd that is as part of them as it is detached from them.
Their dreams drift along with those of many others through the crowd and past the buildings, floating away together in one large amorphous mass, toward places where they may be realised.
It is dark outside. There are people moving on the way to their destinations. The clouds obscure the sky but not the buildings.
It is the city. The lights illuminate all that is around them and hide the sky.
People flow in and out of the city like a river, if the river needed to stop for brief, repeated periods.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:17:90
I wrote this at work on Thursday evening.
I’m not sure as to whether this came naturally or not, but I do think it is one of my better pieces of writing.
Written at work.
Stupidity Hole 