PASSAGE
When you step out the door, you see a street bathed in the light of the streetlamps. Tenement buildings tower overhead, leaving only a narrow ribbon of the sky visible. It is miraculous. To your right, you see the tired, blue-greyish afternoon sky, but when you look straight up above you it looks like someone has spilled a bottle of ink; the sky to your left glitters a shiny dark blue, so dark it’s almost black. In the middle part between them, where the backdrop is still the tired blue with some splotches of ink, a cloud or a veil seems to be draping a layer of aggressive oranges and reds… It’s like the day refused to transition to night and is now fighting for its own right to reign over the skies.
Should you turn to the right and visit daylight, or to the left and dwell in the night?