3am

The train whistle shatters the silence announcing the arrival of the massive steel snake blowing through town. When the pitch and fervor die I can hear the clackity clack of the forged wheels tearing over the tracks, clawing and pulling the massive beast through the darkness. 

 3am. 

The witching hour in true. And with a whoosh of air, stillness returns to the small unsuspecting town. The stars peek out from the clouds sprinkling their sandman dust and the oblivious world resumes its slumber.  Now so must I.

(c) ~Sierra Sugar 2013