Lights

The interior of this bus is dark.  I sit and stare out the window at the passing fields, the glowing snow the only light source as the effulgence of the moon illuminates the white.  Snowflakes fall lazily here and there, hard to make out in the dark.  I trace their descent with my finger down the window, leaving a dewy line in the condensation, even though it feels cold in here.  I pull my jacket tighter around my shoulders and think of you.  Waiting for me, beyond the fields and the snow, in the brightness of a city so big it's scary to think about.  A person can get lost, and be lost forever in a place like that.

The snow becomes less.  Brown grass and concrete bypasses replace the fields.  Another kind of glow becomes apparent; a line of city lights, gleaming in the dark.  Soon the line will become an expanse, and then a blinding illumination that no matter how bright, still won't be able to chase the shadows out of alleys.  Yet it blinds me completely.  And even though I am made sightless by the glare of these lights and the harshness of this city that can swallow you up, I know you are there, a warm spot in the icy chill.  My warmth and my light, you are a soft glow that invites me in every time, never cold, and never empty.

For now the city lights, they are far off, twinkling beautifully in the cold dark night.  But you are never that far away from me, you are apparent in everything that I do.  My every move, and my every thought.  I know that once this bus pulls up to the station, I will be engulfed in the rush of people, and noises and colours and lights.  Just another body on the train home, swaying back and forth with tired eyes, like everyone else.  All of these people, if they are not careful, could get lost in a city this size.

But I know my way.  I will not get lost.  Because I am coming home to you.  
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