The golden hour was quickly dissipating and in its place a brisk chill began to fill the air. As the late November sun effortlessly slid below the horizon, the last of its rays cast a vibrant red-orange hue across the pavement littered with fallen Autumn leaves, slick as ice, for like a quilt they covered the asphalt below, still wet from the morning dew, never given the chance to evaporate. The last remaining light infiltrated through the numerous large and charming patient windows, the sills strangled with ivy beginning to tarnish with the changing of the season. For a few brief moments, shadows cast from the setting sun turned the interior of the airy, vacant asylum into a silent movie theater. A wall covered in paint peeling like skin flaking off a sunburnt back acted as the stage screen backdrop upon which shadow puppets danced jubilantly across the walls. I watched in awe as the shadows contorted into all sorts of unrecognizable shapes and designs, before the great fiery yellow stage light of life began to dim the theater, quickly fading the stage to darkness, in turn the shadows absorbing into the black from which they arose.
Twilight provided just barely a glimmer of soft blue light, scarcely glowing, yet discernible enough from the pitch blackness for us to follow out to safety. We each squeezed past and like a pregnant pig, the fence birthed us, one-by-one though its freshly cut hole, as we snorted and squeeled making jokes the entire time. But it was time to be quite, for we were newborns now and the world that lay ahead of us was dark, perilous, and full of unknown. Like baby sea turtles staggering in unison toward the reflection of the moon bouncing off the waves, significant of the safety of the ocean, we ran for our lives toward the white light raining down from the tall poles, erect in the distance, illuminating our own safety sea of asphalt. But between us and the blacktop, danger lurked and if caught we'd certainly be swallowed up in wave of tickets and red and blue lights. We just had to keep moving and we did, donning the cover of darkness like a camouflage jumpsuit. I can remember reaching the asphalt first, the overwhelming sense of safety overtaking me as lay down between the reflective painted lines where cars once parked. I watched as my friends soon followed, each collapsing to the ground upon arriving. The neon strip malls lights signified our arrival to safety, we had all made it back unscathed. The car horn beeped twice while its headlights blinked, as if it was flirting with us. As the engine turned over we all packed in, covered in grime whilst all looking enthralled, from our successful adventure into Fernald.
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