...the night bled vermilion...

“If you had a bank that credited your account each morning with $86,400—with no balance carried from day to day—what would you do? Well, you do have such a bank...time.

Every morning it credits you with 86,400 seconds. Every night it rules off as "lost" whatever you have failed to use toward good purposes. It carries over no balances and allows no overdrafts. You can't hoard it, save it, store it, loan it or invest it. You can only use it—time.”


Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain. She is trying to blend into the sterile surroundings clothed in her new pale French lavender faux pas gown accessorized with new fangled white bracelets. Its not the most becoming attire for the New Years celebration but it suits her well for the time being or until someone brings her the Terani Couture gown she purchased for the event at Eeyore’s Melancholy Hotel’s, “Bring it on,” New Year’s Eve Ball. The staff smiles and nods when they pass her reclining on the chaise lounge in the quiet corner, and kindly inquire if she is cold. They avoid her request to call for a taxi and tell her all her questions will be answered soon…

Partygoers found her after midnight staring into the water until it bled vermilion, disheartened that her constant long time companion, Zoë left her. Her friend left her high and dry many months ago, even her closest confidant didn’t notice the emptiness that filled the days without her. The woman was a seasoned actress. She fooled many pros with her well-rehearsed lines, executing the prepared words with specific details that were meticulously practiced without flaw behind closed doors. No one suspected anything was wrong. Her confident outward appearance and cool demeanor duped them all. The woman kept up the façade that her missing companion was on a hiatus and would return soon. But, it turns out, Zoë was not the loyal friend the woman thought she was for so many years. It’s been nearly two agonizing years and Zoë still did not return.

Zoë didn’t give any reason to why she left but it was rumored she could no longer provide a faithful service to the woman. The woman used her to her full capacity until she could no longer efficiently perform her duties. She never abused Zoë physically, but in time, Zoë knew her services would become a weak representation of her strength to help the woman and did not want to be the cause of her sorrow. Quietly and unnoticed, she slipped out the door and caught the next blue train out of the city.

“Who the hell does she think she is?” spewed the woman. “I can live without her and all her conditions. She’ll find out she needs me more than I need her.” But regrettably, in a very short time the tables were turned. Zoë happily started a new life with someone who needed her, leaving the distressed woman in dire need of a new companion. It was difficult organizing her thoughts and everyday tasks were piling up without help. The void was intensifying and nothing was getting done. Family and friends were no longer intrigued with the woman’s charm and talents when she chose to become somewhat of a recluse. No one understood her weaknesses, nor did they care. They turned their heads in shame, embarrassed that she could not make it through the day without a constant companion, and eventually left her alone. Worse than that, the 86,400 seconds God provided the woman each day was wasted. Every night for days, weeks, and months, she lost sleep because whatever she failed to use toward good purposes was gone forever. She was distraught, petulant, and ached with profound emptiness and sadness for the relationships and the time which was lost and squandered pointlessly away.

Without Zoë, the woman could not express coherently what was locked in her heart and hidden in the dark corners of her mind. Well, that was not altogether true, because even with Zoë’s tenacity; certain people chose not to articulate on the matter and would never know what was truly hidden inside of the vulnerable woman.

One tear after another gently escapes her closed eyes without smudging the woman’s mascara. Even in complete desperation, she tries to remain composed. She lays on her side, hands poised in prayer, her mind wanders back to past times when she was calmed by the warm touch of her mother’s hand…finally able to sleep…