Apotheose of the "Kathy"

At first they looked like small black dots, going downhill, coming towards me. The purple haze of the young evening manifested in the last sun rays high up in the sky. The darkness comes quickly afterwards, I always knew. I pushed the door wide open and let my skin get accustomed to the cold air outside.It took them 10 minutes to reach me. Quick men they were. For a moment it all seemed like a blurry dream. Like I was a lost princes and they were my knights, to come and save me. But I was the knight this time. I yearn for the days when horses were the fastest way to travel and whether was a force to be respected. But these are different times. My car awaited, parked in the backyard. And they were my four riders of my private Apocalypse!- My editor, my head publisher, my cover artist and last but most important the man who discovered my talent for writing.
It was the most important day in a writers life. Until everything went wrong...
It wasn't the traffic. It wasn't that old lady, crossing the pedestrians lane. It wasn't even the car crash that had closed the street we were supposed to go to. It was me. My heart was beating faster and faster as my brain was reminiscing on all the times I had given up on myself.
I remembered that one time I didn't go to a gathering with friends because I thought I didn't look good enough. Or the time when I didn't apply to study in Ireland because I didn't think I was intelligent enough( and it costed me 2 years of misery,kinda). I didn't tell the boy I fancied about my feelings, and I still don't. My past was filled with so many regrets. That book was my one and only way to get all of the UNSPOKEN and UNDONE outside of me. And there I was, scared to look at it for fear it wasn't good enough...
You must know that miraculous feeling of doing something right, after having experienced all the wrong ways. Well, there I was-alone with myself, finally ready to be sure I'm on the right track. And did what I knew for once in my life was right. I turned my back and in the lights of the evening rush of going-home transport was comfort. I didn't need acknowledgement for my work, any hail seemed inappropriate, faulty. For the first time it didn't matter I had written a book and someone would actually read it. What did matter was I was finally rid of my past doubts. It was no longer my posession, all the things I felt so heavily. All of the flowers of my past tomorrows were now the seeds for my new tomorrows. And they needn't be bright.
There is something I had recently learned. The best mornings are those that start early and don't seem the bright days they would turn into.