A Midnight Wander

I went for a walk at midnight last night.

It was beautiful.

It was just wet enough that the air was seemed to be full of mist; just enough to be seen in the haze of the streetlights. I still think of words like “mist” and my body remembers cold, but it isn’t here. It fills lungs with warmth; slicks skin with dew.

It makes the air just thick enough to almost feel like it can be touched. Not the heavy, oppressive humidity of thunderstorms, hanging heavy on shoulders and pushing it’s way into throats, but just enough on dance along the edge of something magical.

It’s the kind of deep breath that feels like discovery, like tonight, with the wind as a friend and the moon as a guide, there is nowhere that is out of reach. It’s the kind of air that can be felt through spread fingers, leaving teasing hints that somehow, some way, it could be caught.

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