Darkness is soft and stealthy; it creeps and does not stalk. It does not thud and pound like sunshine, and it does not weep like cool gray mist. Darkness is what darkness is, possibilities unending, and the fear that the possibilities will end. Darkness is a paradox. If we lived in darkness would our eyes grow round and big and green, glowing like Gollum’s? Gollum was honest in the dark and treacherous in the light, he was the ultimate creature of darkness, poor deluded thing. Darkness wears a cloak of moss, muffling all the sounds of day. Darkness glows with secrets waiting to be told. Darkness darkness be my pillow, sang Jesse Colin Young, his sweet voice husky with equal parts of desire and pain, making me ache for something that had no name.