The Hour

It was midnight. The universal time for unwanted thoughts and peculiar conversation that made little sense. It’s the hour of confession and the courage to withstand sharing sentiment. It’s the time of the night where your mind wanders into the depths of your inner most concealed thoughts — specifically picking out the unwanted memories. As they resurface, you cringe. You cringe at the old you.

As time slows, the natives grow fond of the compelling bright-light hidden within the gray and blue hues that consume the midnight sky. Oh, it must be the hour! The spell of the illuminating moon devours the city and caresses the Hudson River. The city grew silent. Pedestrians stand still; absorbing the beauty of the moon.

The citizens begin to walk towards the Hudson River — looking at their reflections. Faces grow weary and reminiscent. Is this me? Some look content with who they are. Others look broken. They cringed at themselves.

Time froze.