Northern_Lights_2016

2 End of a Hub City Night Another mundane evening. He leaves, wandering the streets in search of amusement. Frigid air finds weakness in his polar armor, attempting to protect the beauty of this freezing February night. Where horseshoes are thrown, a cold bench waits. Providing a serene landscape. Four stakes rise from sand. Barren trees let streetlight bleed through, spilling over frozen earth. Metal rails of infinite length lie perpendicular to unending parallel boards on a pile of pink quartzite, marking the tracks where a very old, yet still industrious creature travels. A deafening roar from the north is heard, warning all to stand clear. An unstoppable force approaches. The supreme beast of burden. Its orange head propels segment after cargo-filled segment. Bearing artificial scales of aerosol paint made by expressive degenerates, wanting to leave their mark. The great iron serpent passes by. Its distant thunder fades, restoring peace to the dying night. He returns wearing a ski mask. No bark, Wylie knows it’s him. It’s the End of the Night. Once more, the two venture outdoors. One driven by biological needs, the other drawn again to the enchanting night sky. They bid farewell and go inside, listen to “When the Music’s Over,” then turn out the lights. Sean Kramer