They’re winding down again, the stove light thought to himself, as the grey-haired woman wiped the counter tops and packed up the last of tonight’s supper.
He knew that soon the old black dog would wind down too, despite shadowing the woman and begging for food.
Then flick went the switch of the stove light, as the kitchen was put to rest.
They’re winding down again, the porch light thought, as it heard the front door get locked. People still passed by, though the porch knew not why, but it did know the house was closed for tonight.
Then it slowly exhaled, letting darkness prevail, and the front porch was now put to rest.
They’re winding down again, thought the light in the den as the bearded man turned off the TV. He was watching a show where men talked and made jokes; it was humor that the young girl wouldn’t like. The leather couch looked lived in, likely because it’s typically slept in, then just like that, the lamp took its light back, and the den was now put to rest.
They’re winding down again, thought the new hallway bulb, though his words held less weight than the one he replaced. But he noticed a pattern, in and out of the bathroom, then one by one off to their rooms. Last was the grey lady, who wouldn’t sleep till she knew that all was good and ready, then the light switch nodded down under her palm. The hallway was now put to rest.
The young girl preferred sleeping with her door just ajar, the light helped her rest easily, the night light watched, feeling slightly uneasy, wondering why his light was not enough for her. Through the crack in the door, he saw her parents light say goodnight; it seemed their room, and they too were now put to rest. To his right the girl sat at the head of her bed, feeling alone, tired thoughts filled her head, she wondered why her dad never said goodnight anymore, and hardly slept in his bed. She wished that her mother would still read her bedtime stories, on and on till she’s snoring; These were youthful glories you get when you’re young, then one day they’re all gone, like falling asleep in the car and being carried home. She knew these were privileges of a kid that she’s long since outgrown, but if she’s not still their kid then why’s she let in in this home? Then she drowned it all out with a song and a twist. The bedroom was dark now, like the dog by her feet, soon all will fall under, till morning they’ll sleep, the house was put to rest, tomorrow they’ll repeat.