Aww shucks...

Off in the distance, the neon swans swim, caring about everything about as little as we do. I'd like to think they're swans, but they probably aren't. They're probably ducks, swans wouldn't live here. I wonder if she really thinks they're swans. She might, people think she's stupid, but I know it's more of an "extended innocence". She sort of exists and lives on a different plane than most people, including me. And she's so beautiful. From the light of the moon in the puzzle pieced cloud sky... she may be the most beautiful person I've actually come across. Beauty is all around this place. I even feel a little of it, a little beautiful here at night. We sit on a stone couch, revealed by the low tide overlooking a polluted lake, smokestacks puffing to our right, and and odd smell of dead things in fall... but I never want to leave. We just don't see those things. We see the neon swans and the old lighthouse. We hear the water trickle between the rocks on the shore. We feel a cool breeze coming from across the lake, and we know how very alive we are. In the wee hours of the morning, it'll be years before night becomes dawn again. Of all the places to be on the night of Halloween, this would never be a probably spot to go. Maybe it is...maybe this is some cosmic Halloween prank on me... maybe this just isn't happening. I'm not on a chilly stone-curb-turned-couch bench with a beautiful person I wish I knew better. There aren't neon swans or even neon ducks swimming out there, because we're not even here to see them anyhow.

I'm not going to believe that. This is too wonderful not to be real. This place, a third rate tourist trap during the blindingly, blitheringly bland day only really shines out at night, it seems. But then, only for the right people who want to see it. For someone as beautiful all the way through as who I sit with tonight for example.

Wow... maybe they are swans.

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