My first attempt...

The promise of tomorrow lies deeply hidden in the reality of today.

When the lights went out that night, I felt I was doomed. It seemed to be just yesterday that I had truly started to live, and now it was all going to be swept out from under my feet before I had the chance to savor it. I had spent all day in the arms of the world, and when the housekey went in the lock of my front door I was still examining the brochure from the museum I had just left. The art that is made outside of the US is amazing; emotions are shown without any veil, so they come across as real, deep, cutting. Out of all of the pieces on display, my preferred one was in a back corner of a seemingly forgotten room. The lights were dimmed, and the painting of an old woman doing her daily chores was cast in a serene glow that brought her to life. By just glancing at the picture, it was easy to get caught in it; by looking over your shoulder at it you're transformed to that time, when women would hang their familys' clothes in the yard to be dried by the natural wind.
I filled my coffee mug with hot water and a slice of lemon and sat down on the futon in the living room to be again transported to another world. I was the actor, and my stage was the book I held in my hands. As I read, I understood. As I understood, I believed. I believed what all the great thinkers and writers have always said: living cannot be a solitary act.