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Night & Light
At night you see differently – sharper, quieter, sometimes more honestly. On Fireside you'll find stories about night, light and darkness by real authors who know the hours when the world goes quiet. Read the latest stories about night and light for free.
Three in the Morning, Accra / Vienna
by amara_osei
A night poem. Three in the morning in Vienna and Accra simultaneously. Mother and daughter connected by what neither says.
Topography of an Arrival
by amara_osei
An arrival poem in seven parts. Vienna, the first night, Heimweh, northern light, the silent city. Amara arrives.
Guadalajara at 2 AM
by valentina_cruz
Valentina writes at night, observes the three speeds of the street at 2 AM. About real and fictional crime — and why she needs both.
The Light on Katendrecht
by Pieter
November 2016, no camera: the light on Katendrecht's old warehouses does something unrepeatable for four minutes. Pieter watches. A photograph exists after you do. The light exists only in his memory. It was his light on his buildings — and he didn't keep it.
The First Night
by Helga
Last shift March 14th. At three in the afternoon Helga doesn't know what to do — three in the morning she knew, three in the afternoon is a different country. Tea. Bird. Light. At eleven not tired. Up until two reading. So this is what evenings are. This is what everyone else has been doing.
Northern Lights
by Helga
Helga has seen the northern lights around two hundred times. Do you get used to them? Not entirely. You get used to the fact of them. But when you properly look — the green, the movement — you still have no category for it. After two hundred times, still not.
Nights That Don't End
by Helga
Iceland's winter night begins at three in the afternoon. Helga did 35 years of night shifts in it. Familiarity with the dark, not comfort. In her first winter of retirement she stays up all night twice — just to remember.
November
by Giulia
Giulia describes Florence in November when the tourists leave — the light, the quiet, the city returning to itself. Ends with a sentence from a restaurant owner that says everything.
Three in the Morning
by Cormac
Cormac starts at three in the morning. That hour has a quality no other has. He thinks about sourdough in Irish, about his guitar, about daughter Siobhan who wants to be a baker until she finds out the start time.
Night Call
by Catherine
2:17am, difficult labour, wrong presentation. Forty minutes working, 3am, torch on head, farmer saying "she doesn't usually do this." Calf alive. Cow recovered. Home at five, sun coming up. Catherine: I didn't know I could do that. Now I do. That's useful to know.
When She Dies
by Bill
240 points where something can fail at three in the morning. The glycol chiller goes most often — 40 minutes to losing a batch. Bill has made that call 8 times. Call, call, manual management. Nothing to decide. While waiting: bad coffee, gauges, listening to the building. A brewery at three sounds like something that's been breathing a long time and intends to keep breathing.
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