Running with the night

The air does not so much part, as I part the air. Striding boldly across a route 95 overpass, cars below seem somehow slow in response to my pace, and I am part of the night. My stride breaks after 25 seconds and I continue forward at a more relaxed clip. A minute to kill before I surge again, a car’s bright beams has my right hand placed beside my face to blind me from the light. The light, almost an intruder on my night run by separating me from the dark and again an intruder by robbing me of my night vision. The car is past, cumbersome light rolling away and I am part of the night again.