…er sickle to the dark stage. Day performs for everyone, while Night sings to each one of us, apart. Even houses begin to announce their Witching Hour restlessness, through a creaking attic whose wood-whispers could give a corpse the chills. Just a breeze down the street proves that darkness is thick, turning everythi…er sickle to the dark stage. Day performs for everyone, while Night sings to each one of us, apart. Even houses begin to announce their Witching Hour restlessness, through a creaking attic whose wood-whispers could give a corpse the chills. Just a breeze down the street proves that darkness is thick, turning everything into sound-machines…
