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Rated: E · Essay · Emotional · #1251391
My drive home from work at 2AM inspired this piece.
I see demons. They are everywhere, late at night, floating through the darkness. They appear before my headlights, sometimes flashing in and out of my side vision. Some scurry, some glide, some power through with authority, meeting other demons for battle, conversation, or just coffee. Many do not think right, impaired by strong drink, and seek violence and sport.

No, I am not crazy, the late night demons I am talking about are those denizens of the witching hours, past midnight. I am one of those demons. Last night, after 1:30 in the morning, an older black lady crosses the daytime-busy street I was driving on. Her face was tired, her hair an early-aged more salt than pepper, the light highlighting her gray. She had a big handbag on one arm, and a smaller package in the other. I wondered what brought this lady out at this late hour. Was the package milk for a child, a granddaughter perhaps? Or was it something stronger, and she was just getting off from work? Would she use it to help her sleep, or forget her troubles.

At a four way stop, a cop ground to a stop, and then powered through the intersection, from right to left. He was on a mission. When you lived my youth, you can tell. He wasn’t interested in me, or which of us had gotten to the intersection first, and I was not about to argue. I continued on, and turned left. Sure enough, at another intersection, another cop repeated the ritual grind and power. I know they were meeting, or looking for someone in that area. That meant that likely someone’s life was already interrupted, or even ruined. A victim, whether from robbery, or domestic violence, or just vandalism, I have no idea. And now, the visitor of that violence against a life was being sought after. If he was caught, there is another life, irrevocably altered.

Two young people, boy/man and girl/woman, walking the sidewalk. They are walking hand in hand, lightly. You can be sure that bounce is the product of laughter and joy. For a short time, at least, they have found peace and happiness. They are content. Tomorrow, or even later this morning, that happiness may be shattered. Or it may continue for weeks or months. If they are lucky, it will last a lifetime, and he will find the strength to do the right thing by her, to continue on when the job gets hard and the responsibilities pile up. Perhaps she will give him what he needs to be a good man.

Yes, I see demons. They are a part of my world, a world I had left sometime ago. I return to it, familiar with it’s ways, and comfortable to be one of those demons. I enter at once happy and sad, but secure that I am here, and will stay here, by choice. Sometime, perhaps soon, perhaps after quite some time, I am sure that I will leave it again, only occasionally visiting when the situation requires. Until then, I will watch my fellow demons, and understand that their world is also one of struggle, hopes, and pains.

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