Mind-Boggling

"What amazes me the most," my shadow said, gesturing widely - possibly at me, though it was hard to tell, cast up against the wall as it was, "other than that whole so-called 'third' dimension, which honestly sounds a bit whiffy if you ask me, is how you manage to get the bright lights to appear around you every time you show up.  Especially that big one, the one that moves in the blue field; it doesn't even have a switch.  It seems like just once you'd forget them.  Wouldn't that be weird?  Objects without light to cast shadows from?"

Sun and Moon, Midnight and Noon

The children of dawn run with wild abandon. They whoop and holler, shriek and giggle. They have races, rushing to beat one another over the tops of hills or dodging through the maze of foliage in some forgotten forest, striving to touch ground first. They push and taunt, shout encouragement, dare one another to run sideways or to slow down for even a moment.

They never do.

Dawn rushes on, vibrant and vital, and the children laugh. Beneath the laughter, though, is the knowledge of what awaits them should they stumble. For behind them, always, come the children of night...

Nightwalker

He walked the streets, his hands tucked into his jacket, head down. At his feet, the shadows boiled. I saw something dark with eyes like coals dart away and hide beneath a parked car. I saw something else with no eyes but wings that fluttered and rustled flee and lodge in a hedge. I saw a creature with no form at all but only a piping, eerie voice spiral out to swirl through the sky.

Behind him, the lights came on, one by one, turning the darkness to mingled light and blots of shadow. He walked on, seeding the night.

The Shadows Seemed to Move in the Corners of the Room

Starke blinked in the candlelight. "By Jove, chum, you look wrung right out."

"Do I?" Hortney coughed, a wet and ominous sound that threatened to become a fit. "There are always costs, I suppose."

"Costs?"

"Do you like my light?" asked Hortney, apparently changing the subject.

"It's a bit dim."

"No mundane candles, these. The process is arduous, but I have mastered the trick of draining one's soul. Souls are rather like tallow, you know."

"Then you... these candles..."

"The light of my burning soul, yes. It illuminates nicely," said Hortney, grinning horribly. "And oh, the things you can see!"