It was raining in the city that night. A hard cold rain. A kind of rain that washes away the grimy cover of would be villains and out into the darkness. An inky darkness of carefully crafted and planning blandness known simply as suburbs. But this night the empty darkness was pierced by the searing white beam of light from a police car that bore the name of this wasteland. The light only enhanced the blackness that lie beyond and as I stared into this abyss my mind wandered. It wandered back to a happier time. A time before time. A time before the need of this leap event of which was to be celebrated. Why, I asked myself. Why? What drove the need in me to venture into this gulag of thoughtless questions and intimidation? Then I remembered. I remembered that warm day of past summer when it was suggested that we commemorate this sidereal episode that is to come. Will it be the last?
If it were to be the last is not this intrusion of my trek through this mindless lair worth it? Eventually the piercing light and interrogations were gone and once again I found myself searching through the darkness for that land of wicked brewing water.