The Dark Days, and The Bright Nights; By Katlynn Chrans The night ends how every other night ends, with darkness, as black as rich soil deep within the earth; the morning begins how every other morning begins, with pale colours as beautiful as a snow tipped mountain. Every day was the same for me, except today. Walking down the New York City sidewalks I hail a taxi, quickly stepping into the backseat. Giving the driver directions to my favourite downtown café I lean back in the worn down leather seat and watch as the early sunlight filters through between the skyscrapers. “Mister, hey mister, please wake up. Mister we are here, Happy Bones café” the driver softly mumbles, luring me from sleep. “Yes sorry” I quickly pull out my wallet and leave the woman a one-hundred dollar bill telling her to keep the change. I duck my head under the frame and send my thank you’s before shutting the taxi door and walking into the warmth of the confined, coffee-smelling home away fr
words by a wallfower