A Myth About Dawn

 The sprite moved in the darkness as an even darker shadow. He winked into the night, for his very nature was something mischievous. The night flinched. The sprite was up to something.

    It was a few second later when the darkness didn't seem quite so dark.

    In fact, there was a hint of lightness all around.

    The light grew. And grew. And grew.

    Suddenly, it was as bright as day.

    In fact, it was the day. And, to its shock, the night had completely disappeared.

    The sprite rolled his eyes. It was the kind of thing he did. In fact, it was the kind of thing he did every night. For the night always flinched at the coming of the day; it didn't matter that it happened rather on routine. It was the sprite's job to pinch away that silky, speckled sheet of darkness, despite the night's surprise. The sprite shrugged. The night would settle over the world again in a bit. It always did. And he would come again. He always did. And somehow the night would be surprised.

    At least, that's one version of the story.

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