Aureole

It was just another humid summer night when I rocked myself back and forth on the chair after long hours of wallowing on the bed.

Insomnia… That might be an overstatement. It’s just that I had too much on my mind.

I hope so…

The samey rooms of my place dyed Prussian blue in the night, not misbegotten but monotonous. Perhaps, a few plants could ameliorate the lifeless aura oozing out.

Again, I went back to oscillating hope that I regress to slumberland in vain. I needed to rest to go back to my wealthy yet querulous workplace again.

Pensively, I gazed out of the window while the moonlight snuck in and hit the shiny tiles and

reflected all around. I hadn’t realized that the room was relatively brighter than other nights.

Might as well scribble down a tiny panegyric for the maid’s endeavours.

Upon a closer look, I found that the aureole around the moon was ethereal. Giving in to that

small whim of mine, I walked out of the house to go not stargazing or moon gazing but aureole gazing.

I slammed the door a little too hard, the loud sound gave me a sudden headache. Well, at least it was only me. There’s no one in this house to disturb anyway.

I sighed, wistfully. Was it the warmth? Was it the family? Was it a companion? What was that

yearning?

Will it disappear if I take in a dog perhaps?

As I tread down the promenade lined with bramble on one side and a cement road on the other, my eyes kept scanning the area in a quest to look for the darkest place to savour the mirth of gazing upon that picturesque Aureole in all its grandeur.

However, the neighbourhood that I commute through every day seemed alien to me.

The vivid flora and the not so ubiquitous hues were always right before my eyes but never had I ever spared a second glance to these assorted details.

They're just trivial things but somehow they set in strange tranquillity inside.

The journey to the darkest place around while I build a rich repertoire of these taciturn features of my neighbourhood rendered the walk meaningful.

The darkest place around happens to be a garage I often take my car to.

Who would have thought I'd be sneaking into his backyard in the dead of the night just to admire a circle around the celestial body, I barely shower any attention with.

Yes, the moon is pretty and even I am guilty of pulling myself into reveries of a breathtaking

woman descending with gingerly footsteps and graceful gait with the moonlight as the road.

I prolly think a full moon night would be a tryst befitting a forbidden pair like us.

Well growing up, I realised all fantasies are part of it. Such incredibly fortunate and outlandish occurrences happen only to born. Regardless, I have no intentions of getting caught up in an ill-defined relationship with some random guy who'll play villain and palaver over troublesome stuff like defeating demons or saving the world. Ah, you've also got to stand the travesty of those creatures as well

Who'd want to cudgel themselves with such a forlorn fate? Oh, Young boys and girls high on

adrenaline are an exception.

I was once a lad who found that resplendent. My aphonia sometimes manages to astound me.

This man imbibing himself in drudgery every day is happy with peace.

No complaints but I'd be happier if I could just manage to sleep properly.

I wished as the image of the moon reflected in my eyes.

I don't know if there's any meaning to this small journey nor do I feel like I can shut my eyes

peacefully after this.

However, it made me smile. It was genuine.

I don't know how I look when I smile earnestly but I at least know now how it feels. It was a

nostalgic feeling, I admit.

As cretinous as it may sound, I don't know why this feels so enthralling to me. They say the

greatest of all mirth lies in the tiniest of all happenings.

However, if it wasn't for this Aureole who's like the side character in a hero story whose only job is to beautify the protagonist which would be the moon here, I might just have evolved into something I loathe with every part of my being.

A belligerent and dissonant superior that brings fraught just by existing.

The mystic and elusive atmosphere coupled with the halcyon of the night, the culminating effect was akin to Arcadia for a worn-out corporate slave.

This betook the tawdry, sleepless and prolix nights. I won't be avaricious now and ask for more.

Perhaps, the silent song this nightwalker might lull me to sleep like a baby someday.