'Miles to go before I sleep...'

It's midnight. The street-dogs have become tired of their incessant barking by now. The surroundings have become silent long ago. The whole environment is so serene that sometimes it feels like everyone has died. Buried in an uninterrupted slumber - isn't it a kind of demise? 

The stream of consciousness flows. Slowly. You can feel it. But you can't control it. Your mind has transcended the level of your consciousness by now. You're just a body, leaning over the grills of your balcony. You are smoking a cigarette. Perhaps it was you who was smoking. Perhaps not. You can never be sure of it, can you? 

Some of the streetlights are blinking now and then, casting some dancing shadows. Shadows, which are made of light and darkness. Light hits a solid object and a shadow is cast. Shadow. Black. Dancing. Bleak. You start feeling like a shadow. Probably you were never there. Probably it was a shadow. Probably it's a shadow. A shadow, made of light and darkness.

Suddenly you start feeling very calm. The destiny, the home you've been looking for, you've probably found it. Why probably, surely. The calmness rings the bell, ensuring the very fact that you were stumbling upon some time ago. A home. You have heard of it, you know someday you'll probably find it - and eventually, you find it. Your weary pursuit has found its way. You've always dreamt of a home. You know what it feels like. You know how it smells.  Sometimes, they say, home can even be a person. Or a thing. Or nothing at all. Perhaps this nothingness is home. You know what it feels like. You know how it feels. But you've never seen it. Or the person. Or the thing. Or the nothingness. Home.

Once you used to dream about death. Your own death. Or someone else's death. You are not sure. You have dreamt about a person falling from the cliffs of a high mountain. That person is falling, falling, falling, falling... Suddenly, that person evanesces into stupor, leaving you with astonishment. You've seen deaths, you've dreamt about deaths. You've always wanted to know how it feels to die. How it feels like. You never wanted to die, but you wanted to know. Surprisingly, you don't want to die anymore. Or maybe you do. You are not sure. 

Time flows. Time keeps flowing. Time inundates the shorelines of your consciousness. You are standing on your balcony. Suddenly you don't feel the grills there anymore. You are now scared. Suddenly you fall. You started falling. A fall, that you've been awaiting since long. La Chute. 

You fall, you fall, you fall, you're falling... Slowly, like a cinematic sequence. You're falling calmly. Gently. You are flying. Falling. Flying. Falling. You suddenly hit the ground, but you don't feel any pain. Suddenly you see, you're lying on someone's lap. Probably a lady. Her face is blurry. You can see her, you can feel her, you can hear her. You just can't see her face. You don't recognise her. You heave a sigh of relief, and fall asleep. Probably this is the home you've been seeking. The home you've always dreamt of, but have never been there. 

A burning sensation brings you back to your consciousness. You notice that the cigarette's totally burnt, even the butt, causing a burning sensation in your fingers. You throw it off. You're still standing on your balcony. The street-dogs have fallen asleep long ago. The surroundings are still serene. The streetlights are still blinking, casting some dancing shadows. Everything is in its place, as it's supposed to be. Intact. A night. Probably a different night. Though you are not very much sure.