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all-nighter

It is late; the sun has only just hidden away, tucked in for the night, but now it is dark. An envelope of night surrounds us as we talk and love and live.

We play into the night, the music filling me with nostalgia and memories of a more innocent time. We cannot remember how to play, but we get by as best we can.

The scent of cake catches us and we take a halt from our strategising to turn our attention to the kitchen. When we are finished there, what can we do but laze around to eat the fruits of our labour? Perhaps there are better ways to spend your first day here than by spending an hour almost entirely silent except for the quiet delusions coming from the television, but I cannot think of anything.

Words freefall from our mouths for hours today. It is eerily silent in the house except for our murmurs, our slightly half-hearted attempts to not get caught by my parents. 

It is good.

Life is good.

And we talk all night, and before we know it, we glance outside and the sky is a crisp, clear blue. Unknown to us, the world is waking up.

We eventually succumb to the tide, slumber taking over our bodies, and it is not enough - it is never enough - but oh, what a perfect first night.