A broken tulip

It isn’t fair. You can’t tell me night is a “figment of my imagination”. I’m telling you, you’re just never around when it’s here!

Sure, you try to believe me. I’ve seen you turn your back and leave and then come tip-toeing back, popping over the edge of the earth of a sudden, like a parent playing hide-and-seek with a toddler. The thing is, every time you do that you chase night away. Every time you say, “see? There is no such thing. Everywhere it is light.” Like you’re Dad and I’m the kid perpetually seeing monsters under my bed. And I say – “it was here, a moment ago. I swear it was!”

How can I convince you?