Just a moment ago, a dove flew by. The strange thing about it is it’s nighttime. Why a dove would appear at night baffles me. I’ve never seen one when the moon hovered, nor when the stars punctured the widespread darkness. It was an oddity, an oddity that only I witnessed. Or not, because doves do fly across and beyond. So, perhaps, I am not the sole witness, but it is really late at night; I take comfort in the thought that everybody’s on their beds or wherever it is that they’d fallen asleep on. But tonight, my head will comfortably be on my pillow — not because of the pillow, but because of what I saw.