Tonight is a Night for Grave Deeds

Tonight was interesting. So I'm writing about it.

Tonight is a night for grave deeds. The moon hung above all, shining down and offering its little contribution to the light below. Despite the bright new hanging above, the world below still seemed dark. It was a darkness that went beyond the simple explanation that there were some cloud formations overheard. When I looked up, they could see the moon shining through, as if there were a fog machine in the sky, thanks to the wind.

Tonight was a night for strange juxtapositions. The night was warmer than the building I was leaving, despite the wind blowing. The street was desolate, and yet the typical silence of night was nowhere to be found. Instead, it was replaced by the steady moan of a strong wind that, atypically, failed to penetrate to the skin. In the distance, I could hear an arrhythmic metallic beat. Expectations to see construction work being done, or perhaps even a metal stake being driven into the ground, were proven unrealistic. Instead, as I peered through the poorly lit light, I perceived the solution to my mystery: a flagpole.

It stood there, set apart from the old building under renovation that served as a backdrop, and something about it all made the scene feel intensely lonely. Something about the wind and the muted rhythm from the flag created an image of some lone figure, whose existence was defined by a single job that it was failing at. Empty flagpoles are depressing, in that regard. They're good for nothing, but there they are. That night, this flagpole's percussion punctuated the wider wind with its mournful beat, and I wondered if maybe a flag flying at its top would have made the scene feel less dismal.

Author's Note

What do you think a flag flying there would have done to the scene? Can you imagine it? If you could, write out what you see in your mind's eye, and how you feel in the heart of your mind.

What am I missing?

Reviews

[Veronica Ostling-Hirsch..]

This is so lovely. You took a small little scene, and you added so much grace and detail. The vision was clear, and we all know the damning sound those things make. "Something about the wind and the muted rhythm from the flag created an image of some lone figure, whose existence was defined by a single job that it was failing at." That is a sentence which encompasses vivid imagery and also jots a little humor into the thing. There are plenty of times where I've wanted to describe moments like these, and fail to. You set the bar high as far as in-depth thinking is concerned.
A bit of proof-reading though, is key before publishing; though in this case can be easily corrected and the mistake did not detract from the story, nor did it cause much confusion.

[Layne]

I love this so much! It has a mood to it that I love!