A boy has been up all night. He looks up and, to his surprise, sees the young glow of the sunrise. He notices the birds song flitter in through his closed windows. He can already feel the cold, crisp, clean air of a spring morning that he will undoubtedly experience in a few hours, when he walks outside onto his deck for a morning cigarette. He can practically smell the dew that coats all things green in the morning hours. The glow on the horizon is getting brighter, and tinges of red and pink and orange appear, telltale signs of the area from which the sun will rise.
Halfway around the world, a girl watches the sun set. She has had a long day, and she can feel it settling into her body as she watches the sun set. The day has been a hot and humid one. The heavy and oppressive air has sunk into her core and held her in her chair. But she doesn't mind because the horizon she sees is alive with vibrant colors. The reds and pinks and oranges that streak the sky around the setting sun radiate with such vibrancy that they put the colors the boy sees to shame. She feels a contentedness settle inside of her, pushing the humidity of the day into the back of her mind where it doesn't seem to bother her.
He has been talking with the girl for a good part of his night, about life, love, and writing.
She has been talking with the boy for a good part of the afternoon, about life, love, and writing.
He finds it amazing how he is watching the sun rise as she watches the sun set.
She is oblivious of the boy and wonders when love will find her.
Maybe in another world…