The night comes forth and in its wake heightens the allurement of the shadows and sweet lethargy.

In the darkness, the air exudes a metaphorical fragrance suave and rich.
Some flowers offer things to the night which in the day they stubbornly withhold.

Noises fade and whispers can be heard, forms blur and lines merge.

Obscurity quivers, profound and dangerous. It gives birth to a sense of ease and tumultuous fear.

I think of Zelda marching towards her tender night and of her sweet madness, to set off, leaving behind the blinding brutal light of reality.