The limbo between Christmas and New Year’s. The city drifting the quiet days before one thing changes into the next. It’s twilight, and the trees outside are inky silhouettes set against the sky. Beautiful and uncanny, they resemble x-rays. The leafless branches, each one like a vein stemming off a parent artery, each one revealing some greater magnitude of order. Such vast and intricate architecture, and so much more unseen and buried beneath.
A flickering light, a plane, slowly crosses over the moon.
Every one of us in some form of transit.
All things holy and mysterious.
