When they were in India, they had no lights. No electricity, no light bulbs, no high rises in the distance to illuminate. Their only radiance was the moon and stars, against that grape-juice-spill sky. Maybe they had a kerosene lamp or two, but that was all. Besides, Dipak didn't want them to waste kerosene. So night was night. It was dark.

It was never fun being in the dark. There was never anything to do. You couldn't run around too much, otherwise you'd bump into stuff and you'd fall. Listening to crickets creak and birds chirp got soporific after a while.

Usually Akshay went to bed soon after supper. He didn't want to sit around listening to Manjula blind-knit, clickety-clickety-click.

Dipak often sat outside, until the early morning, peering into thick books in the moonlight. He'd mutter to himself, but his words would soak into his beard, unheard. ...

© 2009 by Yiwei Hu