Memorial Day, 1991. Reach in chair, pull out tools. Door opens and light fills the darkness. A 727 touches down on the runway in a cloud of tire smoke. The sun sets behind a small building.
Darkness falls on the city.
The full moon sets. Constellations rotate counter clockwise around the north celestial pole. A waning gibbous rises. The sun rises between the mittens. That's probably what saved my life, I'll tell you that.