The Night Stand

From death, her life as metaphors…

The Night Stand represents a point in time.

It is the immediate twilight of death.

Her story is told metaphorically.

The Night Stand holds the metaphors of her life.

Scene 1

“The Night Stand”

What be the Night Stand Stories untold, still standing after all this time All there for a reason, they all have meaning

The sentinel is always near, not far away Keeping watch on all, protecting what is not known Look close, but do not disturb For each has a place, under the watchful eye of Elsbeth

The storyline has been written, waiting to unfold Taken in order the story may be told, Which order? Elsbeth may hold the key

Never seen in daylight, always there in the dark Her watchful eyes, never looking away Let the story of the Night Stand begin

Scene 2

“The Flower”

Such a pretty flower Never grows old, never dies, frozen in time It has always been here, slightly faded yet still colorful Thorns still sharp after all these years

Never needs water, how nice Can’t remember when it arrived, where it came from If you find one hold it close, it may be all the life you have someday It just stopped getting old one day, can’t throw it away, Reminds me of another day

With time standing still like this, must check the clock some day No need for a calendar, there are no dates What season is it anyway, does it even matter? The flower lives, frozen in time

Scene 3

“The Tea Pot”

Tea is my poison, what’s yours? We all have one, do you know yours? Past journeys never meant to be traveled

Well brewed secrets never to be consumed by others Drink your poison, share with none Never empty, always kept full There when needed, there is plenty more

While there is enough for everyone, this is only meant for one A special brew, well crafted to disguise what is really down that path Tea is my poison, what’s yours?

Scene 4

“The Coins”

Coins on the Night Stand, all there for a reason Follow the money, if you dare The path is not always obvious But in the end, money most always provides the map

Too much, not enough, there is never a sure answer Gold coins, silver dollars, sand dollars Too much to count, never the time Always flowing, taking you where you want to go

But what path to follow? Near, far, here, there Not sure how you got there Who shows the way, who keeps track?

Not in the bank, got a pocket full Others look on in awe, not quite sure what to think They want it all after all

Don’t blink, it might not be what you think Some real, some not so real Gold coins, silver dollars, sand dollars

Scene 5

“The Cup”

Careful what you drink from Comforting when you need it Sweet flavors hide unintended favors What intentions are found as you drink

Have another taste, don’t haste Words flowing like the soft aroma Oh so appealing, have another So consumed with the taste you forgot what you are drinking

More offered, never refused Never considered the source, always trusted Then one day, the flavors started to change, but don’t let it go to waste What of that bad aftertaste Oh maybe just another flavor

Too late now, you’ve had so much Can’t ever turn the clock back at this point Once so warming and sweet, now so very sour What could have you done to be so easily consumed Careful what you drink from

Scene 6

“Mirror and Comb”

What you see in the mirror is not always real Only a reflection Allows you to face the truth when necessary And then, without consequence

Take the comb and change it all to something new You can be who you want, you know where you’ve been Worked so good for so long, whatever happened? Try to fix it, but nothing seems to work

Looking for answers in a reflection lost Trying to remember what was last seen Not sure the reality can be faced Don’t look into the mirror much these days

Scene 7

“The Old Wooden Box”

This is where the bad memories go So weathered from so much use Not sure what’s left in the bottom There always seems to be room for the next one

Some large, some small, they all seem to fit Never overflows Kept close for good reason You never know when the next one comes along

Never to be emptied, might be a big mess Never to be cleaned up Yes, what a mess it would be All contained so conveniently in this wonderful little container Where would I be without it

Only one key, not for other eyes But oh, how they pry In the end, the secrets may be here Yes, tucked away, stacked like pages in a book

Scene 8

“The Book”

Pages, so many pages All hold the story of the Night Stand And so much more. The storyline has been written and yes, these pages don’t lie

As you can see, there is more to this story than meets the eye This isn’t the beginning or the end So much to tell, can it all be told?

Who knows how it will unfold Written so long ago, but not yet finished It’s just time now to start telling the story of the Night Stand

Scene 9

“The Gun”

Ohhh…..and the gun… Can’t remember much about the gun you see…

The image inspired the words; the words inspired the short film of the same name, and all together, they inspired the book, also of the same name.

I’ll post the short film in a separate article. The book is in 3rd edit.

More articles on Medium from this writer here.