Freewriting: After 8:00 (10.22)

I'll have to work on my timing: This is something I wrote on Oct 22nd, but I put it in my pocket and was distracted by one of the more amazing birthday celebrations I've ever been a part of, which I also want to write about, but I haven't had time to sit down and do it justice. I could've very easily pulled it out as a "Halloween Special" post or something, but I only thought of looking for it last night.
It's written on a crumpled piece of yellow scratch pad, and this is as much a move of preservation as of posting.
So without trendiness or anticipated calendar-relevance comes my response to the 5min freewriting prompt at the Writers' Alliance from the night of Oct 22nd.

"What's your Biggest Fear?"*

"It's after 8:00"

It's dark outside and at night, the world disappears. During the day, the outside world oozes through the windows and even if you're trapped indoors, you can still see something even if it's not real enough to draw you out into what you know are the splendors of frolicking in the sun, you can still look through the glass and remember that another world awaits. The walls you come up against, a hand against the glass, homework on your desk, a doorknob that requires effort in order to move, these barriers are impermanent until psychologically fixed. But always,
the world outside the
window grows black
As if by ignoring it and tending to your own internal affairs, you've forgotten how to see the world outside the window.
Like some amphibious cave fish, you posess every faculty of traversing worlds,
if only you would remember.

This happens every day & I wonder, did the sunlight leave because I used it up? Or because I ignored it out of perception. Now I'm in a room with artificial lighting that buzzes like a mechanical fly. The windows might as well be open to a slate black wall.
There is no reason to convince myself of the world outside which lies in darkness.

"It's after 8:00" says someone, as we start to wrap this meeting up. And, for a moment,
I'm afraid that if I stay inside much longer,

I will never excape again.

Though I remember on the way here, I loved the blue coolness of the night on my arms in the same way that I loved the sun's warm glow during the day.

But nights, you disguise your world so well.
Your beauty is a quiet, unassuming one

And for a moment, I was afraid that there existed some magical hour past 8 at which the outside world would disappear,
And I would press my hands against black windows forever - until I forget & grow blind to the world outside.



*note: freewritings just happen. They don't necessarily answer the question which prompted them, but they do need something to get them started.