dusk

What is it about dusk that makes me so apprehensive? Dusk on Sunday, a grey Sunday, brings on a sense of anxiety and weariness; I want to be anaesthetized and wake up to sunlight and some time in the future with no worries. I can easily imagine this time of day spent in some comforting murmur of conversation with a warm group of friends, with tomorrow a pleasant prospect that I will wake to gladly. But this is not the truth of it, and I am here in my apartment with the darkening sky outside and trying to fill the air with sounds, voices from the radio, so that I do not feel alone. When did I become so afraid of solitude? I used to welcome it.