Song of the Night

The rain crashes down on the roof of the old house. The storm beat at the old structure like an angry mob clawing to get inside. A man sits alone at a typewriter typing at a feverish pace. His fingers straight down rapidly at the keys almost as fast the rain falls from the sky. The typing and clicking of the keys starts to sync up with the rhythm of the storm. The writer starts to sway to a tune that only he can hear. His fingers dance across the keys of the typewriter the same way a Pianist would play the piano. His innermost thoughts become physical on paper. The tune plays on, it is the song made by unusual instruments. The flowing and creativity of the human spirit, the typewriter keys the wind and rain striking the outside of the house and an added bit of music that only the writer can hear. The Beat Goes On and the writer sways faster has his typing speed increases. Nights like this were meant for stories and dreams. For imagination and songs that no one else can hear. 

I can hear the rain so clearly, i hear the typewriter and i even hear the music. Listen for it as the sound of rain starts in the back of your mind. I look up from my writing and realize, there is no rain, there is no music playing and the keys to my phone don't make a sound, but for a moment I truly heard it all. And I hope that when the night is quiet and still others are able to dream and they too can hear the song of the night