Impressions of a night.

Feathers. Hundreds of them coating the road, lit by evening traffic. Whipped, wrenched and tossed around by fast-passing cars, flying up to disappear momentarily against the dark sky before settling into the spotlight again. At once yellow, at once red – headlights follow their jerky prime-time dance. Beautiful until you think about how they got there. Road kill. But there’s no sign of the ugly death.

Just the feathers – hundreds of them coating the road, lit by evening traffic.


She never usually watches the road, but she does today as she flees towards her destination in her trishaw bubble. The rush of road beneath her makes her feel weirdly like she was a sewing machine needle, watching yards of fabric race beneath and beyond her.

A bump in the road. A catch in the cloth. She tries to stop, go back, correct the mistake, the extra stitch, but she can’t. The needle rushes past, heedless that it’s pricked her and she’s bleeding.

Confused metaphors fly through her mind, whipping with the wind. She tries in vain to hold her loose hair in place and finally gives up, letting the flagellating strands slash against her neck, face and gloss-coated lips.


When she arrives she is windblown but the ride has been strangely cathartic. She enters and finds herself with new old-friends. Comfortable but moody. The Bob Dylan-esque vocals, the melancholy strings and her own crush-note harmonies accentuate her strange temper.


Later, they watch the rain with the same eyes. Transparent sheets of it push this way and that, spurred by an angry wind. Tinted by lonely street lights, they look like force-fields from a B-grade sci-fi flick.

“Beautiful” she breathes, transfixed and her sentiments are echoed softly.

The balcony juts out into the street and the spray of the rain cools the heated humidity of the apartment. They get wet, but they don’t mind.

A man walks barefoot beneath them, sheltering himself uselessly with a plastic bag. The storm has soaked him and he coughs as he wades on his way, ankle-deep in water, but he still holds the bag as a shield. A dog skitters off into the distance.

The taxi comes and they call out to stop it, rush through the rain to get in, and leave.


At home, alone again, she tries to settle to sleep. But it doesn’t come. Shudders of lightening momentarily light up her room, disquieting thoughts already disturbed.

She thinks of him, misses him but realizes that she’s forgetting him also. Slowly. Word by word, movement by movement, moments spent with him and emotions spent on him are gradually erasing their significance in her mind. Slowly.

She thinks of another, of the danger involved, of her heart and his in the balance. A risk, she has told herself time and time again that she is not willing to take just yet. But the dance has already begun.


She slips away into sleep, running towards the monsters in her dreams. Easier to face than her reality.


Sun of the Night, by Elvazur

20 Comments Add yours

  1. RD says:

    Another lovely post Gyppo Girl.

    I so admire your ability to paint a picture with words and sentences. Your writing makes the reader feel the scene as if they’re there.

  2. thebohemiangypsy says:

    Thank you for the lovely comment, R :)

  3. Exactly what I said about her Carver post RD. You really do take us there Gyppo. Something I wanted to say though… just when you’re not ready to take the risk is when you should take it. Because once you’re ready there isn’t much of a risk in it now is there?

    Love you MFG (my favourite gypsy) ;)

  4. thebohemiangypsy says:

    MFMS (My Favourite Missing Sandwich), I don’t think being ready negates the risk factor. It just means that you’re emotionally prepared for the unexpected (if that’s humanly possible!). And that’s what I need. I need to be able to not break at the first signs of distress. But I’ll get there. Slowly. But I’ll get there.

  5. Black Rose says:

    Wow… such attention to detail. Beyond awesome :) Once again Gypsy, you’ve got an awesome talent :)


  6. Anonymous says:

    Why would anyone encourage G to take a risk when it comes to men? Isn’t it obvious from her previous posts that she has been hurt a lot recently? In my experience risks never work out when it comes to a relationship. Ppl say live life to the fullest etc etc etc. Usually that’s more of an excuse for the mistakes that they have made. Don’t fall into the same trap.

  7. javajones says:

    Another beaut – I like the visual as well. Keep ’em coming!

  8. thebohemiangypsy says:

    Black Rose – Thank you :)

    Anon – Wow, thanks for the concern. I think I like a measure of risk in my relationships, I guess it makes things more exciting. But you’re right – this time I’m taking it slow. Or trying to anyway. Thanks for the advice.

    JJ – Yay! It’s not everyday I get a comment from the great J. Thanks :)

  9. Anonymous says:

    I guess it depends on what you want. Hope the excitement lasts and you gain something more than an adrenaline rush.

  10. javajones says:

    Oh come on Gyps – stop that. Yo be em-bareassin’Java!

  11. thebohemiangypsy says:

    Anon – Yeah. Me too :/

    JJ – em-bareassin’!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hahahaha. Classic.

  12. RD says:

    @anon – I’m no expert by any means, but I think taking a risk, even with a relationship, is often part of the excitement and fun. Otherwise it would be very boring, wouldn’t it?

  13. Anonymous says:

    @RD – Well that depends on the risk. If the risk is trying long distance or dating someone who you may think things MAY not last with for personal reasons is “good” risk. Dating someone who say is known to be a SOB, has baggage that is going to harm you or is more than likely going to end up fucking up in style is “bad” risk. This is me though. Definitely would vary according to the individual.

  14. RD says:

    @anon – Yes I agree that it varies according to the individual. I suppose the thing is that one person’s SOB etc is another’s dream man, or something like that!

  15. thebohemiangypsy says:

    RD & Anon – Nice little debate you two have going on here :P I guess with these things you have to be a little careful and a little crazy. No strict formula :)

  16. Anonymous says:

    TBG – A little bit of this and little bit of that to achieve the right balance. Wait, that sounds like a formula to me :P

  17. Black Rose says:

    Risks especially in relationships keeps up the passion or spark or whatever it is you want to call it.

  18. thebohemiangypsy says:

    BR, Ah well not necessarily. Passion isn’t based on risk alone and if it is, be careful because as soon as you take the risk factor out, your relationship will be in trouble.


    That being said, a little excitement never hurt anyone :) Anon, I said no ‘strict’ formula :)

  19. johndoe says:

    Strangely enough i’m going to say that this post distant and mean it as a compliment. Quite like it. A couple of reads to process it but then again it’s 8.30 in the morning on a Saturday!

  20. Black Rose says:

    Hmm… Gypsy, you’re right… I meant to say keeps things interesting… Hugs :)

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