Cuddling with the blanket and bedsheet he’d been provided, Adam held back on the neuroticism for the night.

Dwelling in the dull blue hues of a midnight background, the detective’s oculary organs couldn’t be at ease. Like an insomniac, he watched the lunar lights etch shadows on the wall and floor of his room, mimicking the window frames’ outlines. On a wall adjecent to the detective’s bed, an analog chronological measurement device displayed needles glowing green.

3:00 am. The hour of the devil, as certain religious researchers would ruse.

‘How in the world did she know my contact information before I even revealed it?’ the detective’s brain was restlessly running a marathon of logical thinking. In the line of policing and evidence collection, his own industrial experience seemed to have betrayed himself. ‘Unless there’s a whole lot more to that waitress than meets the eye.’

Shifting positions on the springy mattress, his head flopped over to face the windowside.

Unbeknownst to his absentminded consciousness, a family of nimbus clouds had begun to shed their tears. Their droplets pattered and splashed onto the silica plates enveloped by the wooden chassis. Softly, like a natural melody being played on a grand piano, the raindrops produced a passive source of white noise.

‘By any case, I’d be quite interested in exploring that woman’s “strange habits”.’

Quite quietly, his awareness quit the presence of this moment in time and space, leaving Adam’s body to remain hugged by sleep, and his soul to roam freely by climbing up the ladder of subconscious dreams.

***

Heat waves from the dawning sunrise evoked a poetic response from the world outside the Leafy Lodgings.

Yawning from the palaces in the sky, ascending from the womb of the sea, painting its signature golden dye, upon the halls of air set free, it arrived with a fresh smile.

It arrived waving at the Earth, riding rays of light so agile, it heralded the news of its birth.

Time tellers dutifully displayed sevens, while “Prince Sun has arrived!” yelled the Heavens.

“Your Majesty, we awaited your presence,” the youthful morning star waved back with benevolence.

Birds conjured chirrup harps; roosters picked up vocal violins. In unison, they sang of the forthcoming dawn, of the blossoming Sun’s righteous era. From every patch of soil, sand and lawn, reminding all of flora and fauna, that the pleasant promenade of light has begun!

From afar, Princess Luna slowly hid behind the astral curtains, shy; her silvery servants desperately followed. Changing the colors of the celestial stage slightly made her cry, but she knew the might of the Prince could have hers overshadowed.

On a foreign bed of azure, she sleepily faded out of view, leaving behind only a faint pearlescent hue.

The Sun inspected the assembly of his Peoples.

“Ah, here come the Clouds!” he spotted his contrasting disciples, riding atop wispy winds galloping swift.

“Hmph!” snorted the Cloud Nimbus, seeking to broaden their physical rift. “We Clouds can bloat out your radiance so appraised!”

Aghast with awe, the kingdom of the Sky exploded into a fog of blaming and blasphemy. By the natural orders described by Ptolemy, advocates of the Weather flocked towards the commotion.

“Sire, we admit apologies for the lack of locomotion,” judging the situation, they sincerely bowed. “But we’re afraid the clouds have contested the roads we plowed.”

Expecting conflict and chaos, the atmosphere fell grim; instead, the golden prince respectfully disagreed.

“My domain is free, let all heavenly beings live their dream,” the Sun ordered by the face of his royal decree. “My cloud brethren may strive to defeat me, but in the end, all life remembers who remains steadfast, on whom to depend.”

Alas, the Sun lifted his hands, exhibiting his palms of power, “The subtle differences between us were granted by birth, for I provide sustenance through light, you via shower, but affirm as your own the way you interpret your worth!”

Hushed as they were, Cloud Cirrus took responsibility for their legion, “My deepest regrets, Prince. Our elders know no self-esteem,” as she dragged Nimbus away like luring a wild pigeon. “May your reign be victorious; may your sister gleam!”

With that, the clouds were finally absent from the solar focal region.

“Praise be to the King of Heavens! Praise be to Him for your Blessing!” exclaimed all non-human lifeforms surfaced below the Sun’s sacred gaze, “Praise be to your Creator, ruler of Night and Day; for you, we sing!”

Reminded of the God, the Sun let loose his full form, ablaze!

Dancing through dew drops, rampaging through rain, dictating the darkness, purging ecological pain, light echoed in every shape and color, as photons marched in waves of honor.

Participating playfully in Newton’s prism, motivating rainbows to climb out of their closets, catering to philosophers the sweetest topic of surrealism, diving into copycat glass and watery pockets, the Sun left his holy mark in a state of hysterical sarcasm.

Alas, flags of the Sun’s ascension were already up; eyes awakened, chloroplasts held out their cup, so the solar syrup stormed out, caressing every fan, directing blind plants, making skin tan.

The sun had risen – every Earthly object now greeting “Hi”.

Yawning like the Homo sapien he is, Adam Jucas gazed at the calendar perched atop the flat inner membrane of the building. Printed text mentioned the name of the month: June.

Squinting for a handful of time, he allowed his eyes to adapt to the harsh concentration gradient of light invading his room.

‘Well, well, if it ain’t an average day in the middle of June,’ he chuckled to himself as his jaws made two quick embraces via the lips. ‘Time to check on that Cat, and judge in what weird tones she purrs.’

Waking up from bed fully, his feet gently slammed onto the hardwood floors. A satisfactory creak was audible as his own stretching body made his back crack.

He drew a deep breath.

Picking up his tuxedo, he slipped it on with the help of regular habit.

He was about to leave his apartment when an unidentified object captured his visual reflexes. It called for his attention immediately.

A white square object had been slipped under the front door overnight.

Kneeling down, his bare hands dug parallel to the floor to pick up the square piece. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t there before.

Turning it over, his heart faced a similar sensation as last night.

It was a photograph.

Of himself.