Rapprochement

A Bedtime Story

The city night hisses with speeding cars and the torturous racket of dueling motorcycles accelerating into the shadows. Horrible visions of brain trauma wards and coolers full of torsos scarred with road rash on meat hooks invade the mind. There is no place to go in Antep late at night, so everyone is in a hurry, like a drunk in his cups stumbling into hell. The yellow street lamps cast an ill light, like jaundiced eyes. There are no birds and barely a mosquito from the municipal sprayers. Then there is a moment long enough to take three breaths. The soundless arid night approaches the ears, soothes the agitated psyche. Then another motorcycle. Then a few cars. Then a low geared truck. And there is not a human voice. No shouting. No arguing. It is Tuesday on a school night. The children are sleeping. The lucky adults cling to each other in the moist dark, having pushed back the night with love.