The night and lost for words, lost voice lost thoughts. Returning home far beyond dusk, trembling being sleepy and cold. A plethora of conversations circling, partially unrelated and this feels quite strange. Common past but disjoint worlds. All in itself an issue of synchronisation. Or distance. And always vague dreams in between. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are. 

Many hours from there, settling mind. The night resting on the houses like a calm dark bird. Few stars manage to send light through its feathers. Lanterns on the terrace. A phone call, one half of the story dripping into motionless dark. Laughter. Across the street, people are cleaning tables and washing dishes. A dog behind a closed balcony door, staring out until attention wanes. Unpacking, packing again. Some rest, some tension always, and grateful still. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.