Thomas Roland

What ever happened? Where did those mornings go when we would be woken by the golden spears of dawn piercing an ice-chilled sky? Why do we miss those nights where we sang by the moon and danced beneath stars until we fell with weary feet?

Now we have time to hold us to unseen oaths. To rise at seven o’clock, have breakfast by seven-thirty, be out the door at eight and arrive at work by nine. To count down the three and a half hours until we have a break for thirty minutes, until another four hours are signaled and we begin the hour long trek home. Cooking for forty minutes, eat for ten, then its movie night for two hours. Finish those bills after thirty minutes, scroll through the internet for an unplanned twenty. Ten minutes to squeeze in a shower and shave, five minutes to clean that stain we left, two minutes to slide into bed.

We set the alarm, and it begins counting down the nine hours, three minutes and forty-eight seconds for sleep. Forty-seven. Forty-six. In those moments, dreams come to me, and I see myself dancing beneath an unmoving moon.

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash