It’s dark in the room. I can’t see more than a few feet away, and the light from my laptop screen isn’t helping. My cat keeps swatting something on the floor, and I keep trying to see what it is, hoping she hasn’t brought in a mouse. It’s just too dark.
It’s not even that late. The autumn’s evening sun sets when people are still milling about, engaging in evening runs or walking their dogs, and I frequently get the urge to be outside, sitting on the porch with my laptop and watching the evening activity. It makes me feel less lonely, like I am a part of the world.
As the fading light drains the color from the neighborhood, my neighbor Mike pulls into his driveway across the street. I guess he is getting home from work, but he’s later than usual. He’s a great guy; always walking over and bringing a beer or two just to hang out and talk. I enjoy his company a great deal.
I wave as he steps out of the car. I guess he was working out as he is in his white shirt and gray shorts, and when he waves back, a quickening–unexpected and almost imperceptible–causes me to smile contentedly. I like Mike a lot.