When I was little I used to sit at the window and wait for my father to come home. He'd always show up just as dusk turned to night. It was my favorite time of the day, that is, until one night he never came home. I sat at my window for hours after the sun had fallen hoping that I would see his tall figure emerging from the dark, but he never showed. Something broke inside of me that night and I could never look at the coming dusk the same for it always brought memories of him.