Yellow Shadows

There was a soft and gentle light escaping the kind uninhabited cottage. In the moonlight, there seemed to be shadows that danced on the walls to a quiet lullaby, as the light grew brighter the desolate cabin came to life. On the yellow walls, still, silhouettes came alive flying in the light searching for their lovers’ shadow passing by, the spinning shadows connected with a vulnerable touch only human emotion could convey. By the shining moon sat the dark night, it watched the isolated cottage shin with its bright yellow light and dancing shadows that had come to life rejoicing in their new found comfort of each others love, they whirled around the now glowing cottage as if pushed by the wind, so effortlessly. And on the rise of the sun sat the cabin alone and asleep, it’s performance the night before completely gone with the moon, hiding behind the light of day, the shadows, stationary, shifting along with the sun as it makes it’s journey over the hilltop, till the quiet cabin is alone in its own shadow, with no light but with no moon the shadows gone with the ibis, they must wait for night to fall to continue their dance.

Every short summer night leaves a longing and desire to an unfinished dance, an unreached moment left untouched as the moon says goodbye with an apathetic slanted grin. As days on the hill got colder the moonlit dances got longer, but as these cold nights surround the cottage the warm yellow walls and the bright glow kept them flushed while they moved along the walls unconstrained by the earth.

At least once a night the shadows joined hands just as the sun rises and the light filled the hills waking everything from its sleep. In the small cabin, they said goodbyes until next time as they parted slowly returning to their places on the yellow walls. On these sunny days, they moved solemnly around the cottage and hoped to touch each other as the light shifted from each shinning window to the next.

By dusk, the shadows have waited with an impatience trembling inside. Waiting for the sun to finish falling behind the hill, drearily dragging all the light with it as the moon wakes from its slumber. The moonlight began to bleed through the sky like a crystal glass full of white wine with fine bubbles that spilt across the sky illuminating the cottage with a warm drunk light.

The lights in the cottage dance around the yellow walls, the cabin was brighter than any other night, as the shadows came to life there was no audience tonight. There were no bystanders yet everything stopped to watch the tiny cabin filled with lights. This night they danced longer, and with more emotion than any other night, the lights brighter and the tensions higher, there was no reason for this, it was the longest night of any other.

Suddenly the night was over, the sun rose and as the lights faded the shadows held on refusing to go without each other, determined to remain connected, eventually the light through the windows won. Their love had grown as old as the hills and soon they would rejoice again, shifting with the sun as it was pulled out of view the crystal cup spilled once more. The yellow lit dance has begun.