Night fall

Night fall
Nightfall
Nightfalls
Night falls
Night fools

Day light
Daylight
Daylights
Day lights
Day lies

The Night fool is twenty foot tall and also smallest being you could imagine. It travels from bed to bed, from nightmare to dream, from wishes to heartfelt pleas. It is whatever you want it to be, or not.
The night fools everyone into thinking that things are worse then they are, or less. But never how they actually are. The silhouette of a stuffed toy engages small boys with a death stare of their greatest fears. The seventeen year old cant see a future in the darkness of her room, let alone her life. The business man anticipating the promotion tomorrow which has already been gifted to Freddy from accounts. The night fools us but the daylight doesnt lie.

Now the Night fool is a storyteller of wonderous and most terrible imaginings. The Day lie tells the truth. Together they form a picture of truth, half truth and untruth. A picture of everything.


Night Fool-Beth
Tuesday 7th November 2008 11:30pm

Alone, Beth potters around her flat. She picks up magazines, stuffing them in the recycling box. Old receipts are put in the shredder and she sprays windolene on her glass table. A bath is run, fragrant bubbles dance in the water, around Beth's wrist, then cruelly spatters over the tiled surround as she picks up the flannel which has just fallen in. A tightening around the her mouth punctuates Beth's annoyance as the ring of her telephone pierces the silence.
'Hello?'
No answer
'Hello?' Bath frowns and waits. Nothing. A rustle perhaps, perhaps not.
Looking at the caller display - number with-held, another tightening of the jaw, Beth makes her way to the front door and locks it. Makes her way to the box under the bed then over to the glass table and sets it down. She pulls a sheet of paper from the stationary set that her Mum gave her for Christmas, a faint picture of a gambolling kitten covers the page.

Dear



Day lie -Beth
Wednesday 8th November 2008 7:00am

Drip, drip, drip....drip, drip, drip...drip

Beth is in the bath, her dark hair fanned out in the redness of the water. Beth wrote her letter, got in the bath and then died. Or was killed. The dripping is the tap, not, as you would imagine,blood gushing from an open wound.

Night fools- Gareth

Wednesday 8th November 2008 12:00 noon

Many people would say that they knew Gareth Boyd. That he had no cares in the world, a lovely fellow with a comforting gift of always knowing you. He knew who you were, who your family were, what was happening in your life at any one time. Such a strange skill for a multi-millionaire of a global software design company.


Day Lie- Gareth

Of course, this was all a lie. Gareth Boyd had a highly functioning memory and a ruthless patience finetuning his communication skills. So very handy for someone who had been avoiding interpol for the last seventeen years and had been systematically siphoning off funds from various sources to silence his enemies, via blackmail, extortion and murder.
The only people who knew Gareth were people he had never met, who had been looking for him for the last six thousand, two hundred and five days. The day never lies and the night tries to fool. Gareth had been using both to his advantage and at a very dear cost.