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On a tropical island, lounging on a hammock as the bright sunshine slowly gives way to a misty twilight - that is where Zander loves to spend his time. He reclines idly in his hammock, watching as the sky turns to a yellowish purple and the rows of coconut trees become dark silhouettes.
There is something about evening twilight that enraptures Zander. Perhaps it is the way the day ends so beautifully, as if the day is not willing to leave without a grand exit. Perhaps it is the way the darkness descends so gracefully, that you scarcely notice it at all. Perhaps it is the in-betweenness of it all - between light and dark, day and night, the known and the unknown.
Sometimes, Zander feels as if he too stands at the edge of it all. He pictures himself teetering at the edge of all that he knows, feeling his way in the dark and trying to place one foot forward without missing a step.
Whenever he feels this way, it lasts only a moment, but the moment seems to stretch out for eternity. Like the moment when his cousin informed him of a terminal diagnosis, and he struggled to find the right words to say. Or the moment when he had to decide if he would pursue his scholarly ambitions, poring over crumbling historical texts, or give it up altogether. And the moment when he came across a ragged thief in the midst of filching a gold necklace, and had to choose between turning him in, or letting him return to his starving family.
All of these were just a single moment, caught in a frightening gap between the light and the dark. Like a dimming twilight shrouded in mystery and obscured by mist.
But Zander knows that the twilight is also beautiful.
There is something about evening twilight that enraptures Zander. Perhaps it is the way the day ends so beautifully, as if the day is not willing to leave without a grand exit. Perhaps it is the way the darkness descends so gracefully, that you scarcely notice it at all. Perhaps it is the in-betweenness of it all - between light and dark, day and night, the known and the unknown.
Sometimes, Zander feels as if he too stands at the edge of it all. He pictures himself teetering at the edge of all that he knows, feeling his way in the dark and trying to place one foot forward without missing a step.
Whenever he feels this way, it lasts only a moment, but the moment seems to stretch out for eternity. Like the moment when his cousin informed him of a terminal diagnosis, and he struggled to find the right words to say. Or the moment when he had to decide if he would pursue his scholarly ambitions, poring over crumbling historical texts, or give it up altogether. And the moment when he came across a ragged thief in the midst of filching a gold necklace, and had to choose between turning him in, or letting him return to his starving family.
All of these were just a single moment, caught in a frightening gap between the light and the dark. Like a dimming twilight shrouded in mystery and obscured by mist.
But Zander knows that the twilight is also beautiful.
Bio by Tar #1249086