Finding me in the dark hours no one wants. On the fierce pleasure of claiming the quiet darkness before dawn.
Melissa GeurtsMarch 24, 2025
Before dawn — the only hours nobody else asks me for.
I'm extremely on time. I just don't feel like I'm in the right week. The older I get, the less the date matters. What matters more is the season. When the sun shows up. When it disappears. How long the day actually feels.
(Body of essay coming. The framing thought above is the through-line — the full piece picks it up from here.)
Melissa Geurts
Editor of The Stillware. Writes from a rooftop in New York. Built the app this publication is attached to.