Finally a few hours of freedom. Freedom to roam the streets at will, sneak down dark alleyways, watch the drug dealers, the pimps, and ogle the half-clad girls of the night.
Freedom to go where I want, do what I want and be who I want. This is my time.

I go out every night. One great advantage of being me is that I never sleep, never become tired. I am not like the rest of you, crawling into your beds at night, becoming virtually unconscious during the best time of the day, the time when all the excitement happens.

Just read and see what a typical night for me entails and be envious.

It is Saturday night, just before midnight. I have been freed from my tedious daily chores, going hither and thither, following Jason around like a little sheepdog. He doesn’t care about me one iota, barely even notices that I exist. Once he is in bed asleep, I am done for the day. I sneak out unseen in the darkness, anticipating the Saturday on the town.
I slide along unseen by passers-by, unnoticed by all, except the moths. The moths become unruly, nervous and flutter around me as I creep along.
I hear music, loud thumping beats that make me shudder with excitement. I make my way towards them. I cross the street. A car flies by, going right through me, without noticing. I feel the speed, the buzz of the night. Wow! I am moving to the roar of the 70s disco music and see the bright flashing lights. Still, no one notices me amid the red, blue, yellow and green flickers. I see the dancers moving in the strobe lighting, appearing like pictures in an old silent movie.
This is living. This is why I am here. I’m laughing, dancing with the others. I dance between the couples, duck between their legs, join the Funky Chicken moves, The Bus Stop, The Resurrection Shuffle and my favourite YMCA.
I dance the night long, never tiring, never hungry, never sweating. The time flies so fast.
I look outside and see that a faint hint of dawn is showing on the horizon. I must hurry back. Jason will be needing me.
Have I left it too late? I race through the streets, dodging lampposts, avoiding lit doorways. It is becoming lighter. The sun will be up soon. People are beginning to turn their heads as I whoosh by, not sure if they have seen me or not. I sense their nervousness. Have they just seen a ghost? Did they simply have one too many this night? No matter, I hurry home to Jason.
I race up the staircase. I can hear his stirring. Oh no, he is awake. I nip into his room, carefully avoiding the bedside lamp, which is already on. Ah! I am safe. He is not yet properly awake.
I crouch quietly next to him, ready to spring back into life the moment he climbs out of his bed.
I know that he needs me, even though he never shows it. I will be with him until tonight, when I go out on my next adventure. “Where shall I go tonight”? , I wonder.
You see, I am Jason’s shadow.