He’d reached that time of life where his sunset hadn’t happened, but he certainly considered he was enduring the dusk stage of life.
His lights were fading but he preferred to think of it as a part of his day to day, he fell asleep more and more, his nights were riddled with sleeplessness and the craziest and scariest nightmares.
At times he wasn’t sure what time it was or whether it was day or night.
His son would often find him at 3 am in the bathroom preparing for his morning shave. His son would point out that there was no daylight coming in through the windows and that his father should still be in bed.
And so the shuffle back to bed would happen.
As each day ended the old man feared the coming of night. His fear stemmed from his not knowing if he would see the dawn.
This was his cycle of life, the revolutions like the length of his days as winter drew nearer becoming slowly shorter.