5 PM

Growing up, I used to hate 5 PM. It was calm and tranquil, the sun doing what the sun does day in and day out, ready to set. I think of the sun sinking, making kitchens glow. Somewhere, someone was feeling peace. I remember thinking that it felt like a trap, a mosquito in amber. As I scroll on Instagram, on a Monday, Labor Day, a holiday for those fortunate enough, I see gay men screaming for validation, writing messages to each other that they no longer need approval and that they're past it. It's a mosquito in amber, a sunset doing its job.