SIX WORDS FOR TEENAGE ANGST IN THE DARK CHAPEL

Sneaking in. Listening to the dark.

I'M PRETTY SURE I DISLIKE THE DARK TODAY

I don't think I came from a world where there was night. I pretty sure I dislike this darkness that seeps in after the earth turns away from the sun. I like it dark to sleep in but I wonder, did we sleep in our life before here?

I like to see my neighbor's Christmas lights, which I couldn't see if there was no darkness. Three have them up, two across the street and one next door but I have to go outside--in the dark--to see the next door lights so unless I'm out driving or walking I won't see them much. Besides that, the dark here represents the cold and I dislike the cold, too.

So, I'm boycotting the darkness today. I am pretending that the sun is merely winking and the light will be back on in a minute. It will be warm outside and we can go play.

In the meantime, I go to the window, open the blinds and look out at the neighbor's houses. It makes me happy to see the color and cheer as long as I have to endure the darkness today. I should thank them. I should write them a nice letter--and then I will have only 72 letters left to make my last year's New Year's Resolution.

I should encourage Phil to put our lights up too so they can be happy to see our lights, just in case they are disliking the darkness today too.

And I guess I should quit whining because, really and truly, nobody likes a whiner. But I just had to whine a little because I am disliking the darkness, today. I simply am.