Tokyo Tales [crowded streets crowded prose]

Afraid of the Dark

The sky around, always a grey, a patch of blue, a glow or red orange crimson at night, pink and purple when the sun slips up or down and browns and blacks when it goes sideways. A searching spotlight, the blaze along the highways, fields of neon stretching the avenues and a million evening wares all lit up so the night owls can feed. Blinding pink blue green white, even; words and pictures so the denizens can find their mark.

Its dark, but never pitch, say its never really dark. Could your eyes have really adjusted to a permanent level of light in the air? Should true black ever banished make a return to this place, would we all become blind? We would, the insides of our eyes have forgotten the feel of real darkness and become fatally attracted to these more real than real colours our science has created.

Every turn, every corner and alley, every box and shelf calls us and we cannot resist this new spectacle and drawn away from the fearful dark retreated as it has away from the city we now stay here, packed and crowded in our apartments lined with LED filled devices and walk from one fluorescent enclosure to another alone with the lights from LCD screens to guide us. Calling now are the neon marked dens of the night we have half shut out, half welcomed to the day.

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