“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” - Edgar Allan Poe - “The Raven”
There is a place I keep dreaming of. Come with me, I'll take you there.
I’ve been wrestling with the quiet. I live in a 4-story building, in a 550 square foot apartment, alone. The walls are concrete, so unless my neighbor Brenda dips a little too deep into the wine and starts belting out her rendition of Sweet Caroline (as she sometimes does), there’s not much else to listen to but the hum of my laptop and the ding of the elevator from somewhere down the hall.
I remember the first freeze like it was yesterday. It was a March day of unseasonably warm temperatures, but we wouldn’t notice the connection until much later. The office building where I worked was buzzing with excitement. People were going for long walks and offsite meetings just for the chance to go outside and feel the warm sun on their faces. It had been a brutal winter, so the sudden heat wave felt like a long awaited reward. It was a day to leave the coats behind and roll up our sleeves and order cold, sweetened drinks from the expensive coffee shop by the park.
I've been tangled in the love of reading all my life. It's kept me cool in the summer and warm in the Fall when the leaves turn apple red and the wind bears it's claws. We've had a lot of adventures together, reading and I, and it's been on those mind-bending and path-twisting escapades where I have found myself in extraordinary company.