How appalling that some people do not feel safe going out at night. The world should be available for everyone to explore, and at all times of the day. But for so many when the sun goes down the streets outside become a danger zone.
My friend Priya discussed this once over lunch. She revealed to me that she had only been out past midnight three times in her whole life. Her mouth opened when I revealed my daily walk at one A.M., before my shift at the factory.
So I said I would treat her. That we would wait until the clock struck twelve times, and then head into the dark sea of suburbia.
I knocked on her door in time with my watch hands pointing skyward. Priya peeked round the door, and glanced in both directions. I almost laughed.
We had aimed to walk down the main street up the corner shop with the shutters pulled down. A quick spin to allow her access to an inverted town. But I suggested we should stroll down the little alleyway to the side of her house, so she could get a real sense of how safe everything was.
Broken glass covered the tarmac studded with weeds. At the halfway point the streetlights stopped providing their safety. This is where the face pokes out of the wall.
The face is a standard one. Grey skinned, with a pointed chin. A green tongue long enough to wrap around your wrist. It howls if you get too close, but the risk of getting bitten is low if you keep your fingers away. This was why I thought the alleyway a good place to explore.
Priya’s screaming put the howls to shame. Most of her words were lost, but before she ran I managed to determine she had never even heard of the nighttime faces.
I slipped my hands in my pockets. Kicked a weed. What a disaster. I honestly did not know she did not know.
Link: I knocked on her door in time with my watch hands pointing skyward.
