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Holed up here another night, squished slantwise in a pirate’s right socket.

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Another night spent swallowing this wash-grey, garbled light.

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Counting slats crushing in between the cracks.

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Remember: if you can see them they can see you back. So much as light a candle, they’d know it from miles away.      Teach yourself how to be at home in the shadows. Wear dark clothes as to easily melt – lapse into the jetty black like butter - and resist relying even on the faintest of moonglow.

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Harbor a healthy hatred toward all that is light, which cannot be trusted.

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Next, learn to pick out roving shapes in the darkness.

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Grainy oblongs, bouncing flits and flutters.     

 

Get good (better still) at squinting — practice makes perfect in this regard.

 

Whatever else you do, never ever shut your eyes for longer than it

takes to reach the tippy top of Stormer’s Cove.

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