Day

He sometimes wondered when a day was done, or if it ever could be. He knew that in some northern cities, there were months when the light never left the sky, and months where the days were mostly dark. The sun gets stuck in the high up places. Some days never finish, and others never begin. How can they sleep, those northern people, with the light pressed against their eyelids? Time is not felt the same in every place. We judge the passing of seconds, minutes, and hours by the brightness of the sky. But the sun never rests; it just leaves to go somewhere else. A slow, beautiful exit that makes us stare. And then, our weary eyes bring an end to the day. Far away, other people's eyes are pulled open by hooks of light thrown in through bedroom windows by the same sun that has left us.