The Evening Star

This is the first in what I hope will be a series of posts following a daily writing prompt. The prompts are taken from ThinkWritten.

1. Outside the Window: What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?

I’d need a sweater if I were to stay out much longer. The sun has set, but there’s still plenty of light. The first thing I notice when I get out from under the portico is the evening star, shining brilliantly in a pale blue sky. I smile as soon as I see it.

Swallows, or maybe starlings, are darting around, hunting in the dim light that is something between day and night. They’re noisy and swift, making quick, sharp turns. Someone’s been grilling and it smells spicy and sweet. I look around for the glow of a barbecue, but all the front balconies are still. Though all the parking spaces are occupied and I know everyone’s home, I feel alone.

I shiver, and remember why I came out. Nothing in the mailbox, drop the shopping bags in the back of the car, disturbing the peace with the dissonance of the automatic tailgate’s beeping.

I turn back to look up at the evening star before heading back inside, back into lockdown. It feels delicious to be alone out here. I watch as day ends and night begins. Then I shiver again.

As I turn to go back inside, I think to myself, “Better wash my hands.”


The Brain In Jane works mainly in the rain. It's always raining somewhere. Find me on Twitter, Google+, and Pinterest.

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