Saturday nights turn everything golden– golden dogs, golden ramen, golden solitude.

I’d gotten home late on that Saturday night, courtesy of a pumpkin carving display in Chadds Ford. The beautiful golden glow of candles and the smell of freshly cut open pumpkins brought back the memories of my childhood. I relished in the cool night air, the beautiful works of art, and let myself wander. 

When I’d gotten back in the car to go home, I slipped on my headphones and tuned everything else out, letting the drums, guitars, and lyrics fill my head with daydreams and fantasies of other worlds. I’ve always loved long car rides. It feels good to just sit back; not being expected to socialize, or listen to pointless stories you don’t really care about, about people you don’t know, and don’t want to know. It’s freeing, ironically– when you’re stuck in the cramped backseat– but it feels so nice. At least, it’s nice for me. Dunno about everyone else.

  I wasn’t hungry when I finally got home, but after seeing the time, I’d gone to the basement pantry and grabbed a packet of ramen– the good kind, from an Asian grocery store. It was savory, and slightly spicy, and its warmth made its way into my bloodstream. I ate on the couch that night; a rare occasion in and of itself. I turned on the TV and browsed Netflix, before deciding to click on the first episode of my favorite show, happily rewatching and reminiscing. There’s something special about rewatching your favorite show, when you already know what happens but still forget those little things that make the episode even better. My dogs lay asleep in the living room; Calvin on the couch with me and Snoop on the floor.

 I think I’d watched around four or so episodes before cleaning up and heading to bed. Calvin lay at my feet and Snoop lay on the floor. I fell asleep easily enough, though in the back of my mind, I was already mourning that glorious, golden solitude that I knew wouldn’t be back.