Night（Chapter 6）

Moonlight unveils its layers of grainy light over his window, creeping along his tablelamp and finally, lands on his eyelids.It is not uncommon to hear the humming of cicadas over the dark background, but tonight they seem to orchestra their way to the climax. In contradiction, the night itself was silent, with shadowy darkness blanketing the intense flowing of activities beneath the surface of the city. When he stares at the window, all he can see are bubbles of streetlight arranged in a symmetrical way, as if yellowish dots pending to be linked to form a picture in a drawbook; or shimmers of fluorescent light sipping through windows of high-rise apartments to decorate the night. He tidy his desk, switch off his tablelamp, and crawl into his bed. Once he close his eyes, the hands on the clock will marathon their way in an extremely fast pace, stepping on each numbers repeatedly. And repeatedly. Of course, things are supposed to happen in such order. But today, the runners in the clock are exhausted; they gasp and stagger, forcing their breath with an almost unbearable sluggish manner. This is the moment where his imagination masters over his sensory organs; a chill feeling aroused by the wind leaks into the room; creaking of wooden floors; stains on the ceiling changing into some hideous shapes; groaning of rusty swing...wait, the sound of a swing in the middle of the night? He regather his bravery, climb out of his bed and peep through his window. He thought he caught a glimpse of a shadow with a tall hat on playing with the swing, but he wasn't sure. "Grandpa?" His breath fogged the windowpane. Quickly, he scrub it off, as he fear the shadow might disappear. As time ticks away, moonlight shifts and gradually unpeeling darkness to a certain visibility, thus enable the boy to outline the shadow and his movement.