Today is April 9, 2015. I am alive and fairly well.

My writing has been as bad as a bat without night vision, his echolocation** not working. He doesn’t leave the roost in his cave dwelling for fear of running into a city building downtown. He’s afraid he won’t be able to make his way back before dawn, dawn the time all bats fear; the time the predators are out.

I would like to take flight as bats do. They’re the only mammals that fly. They leave in colonies and have harems. There is no war with bats, no jealousy, no fight to find the best roost or the prettiest female. In some places, people consider these fuzzy creatures a sign of bad things to come. In other areas, bats are thought to be good luck.

Night shades me. I like to walk out into it, leaving the light at home on for the cats, Grams and Annie. NIght allows the moon to wake and the sun to sleep. Eventually, I return to my bed and sleep, dreaming of gold coins.

Then comes dawn. I awake paranoid, afraid to begin the day before me. Like the bat, I oftentimes feel unsafe in light. The light is strong. If I turn it on myself, I recognize that I radiate like a gold coin, still, on the light gray concrete. I walk out and reach for the coin. Viola! I am past the threshold of my home, out the heavy door, the door heavy like stone, to heavy to break down. I am safe in my home. But I radiate outside. I mustn’t forget this. I mustn’t forget that I live.

**Echolocation is the process of using sound waves to locate surrounding objects. Among other things, it is how bats find insects.

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