Her early leaf’s a-flower

Here I was, just sitting and typing along, catching up on the emails that somehow end up in my inbox, when I took a look outside. To see the courtyard erupting in darkness. It’s not yet 5 and everything’s being slowly covered with shade.

I miss when I was younger, when darkness signified that the rest of my day only involved eating and cuddling with my parents and entertaining myself, only to fall asleep in the end. Now I still have meetings and an event to go to, along with homework I’ve been putting off for a sinfully long time.

Sooner or later sleep will come, but by then the artificial lights will have crept in, scaring the darkness away.

I’ve always had a fear of expressing myself. Of trying to get others to comprehend the mess in my head. And though I’m sure this is not by any means a unique feeling, it’s often put me into desperate situations when I was afraid I’d never be able to communicate at all.

The more ways we find to communicate, the more I think we’re losing something about the simple, spoken word.