November story #1

This November, I shall endeavour to write a story in thirty instalments. The format is inspired by National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), but I'm writing shorter daily segments.

In the pitch black of the night, only the stars provided light. Innumerable pinpricks of light, some faint, some bright, of all colours visible to the human eye. Some clumped together, others far apart. Below the pivotal point, around which they appeared to rotate, a curtain of green arose. Fading, brightening. Gradually changing hue, changing colour. Mesmerising. Outlined in black against the green of the aurora were two figures, entranced by the display which continued soundlessly. Far below them, at the bottom of the cliff where they were watching, the Atlantic surf broke against the ancient coastline. Jagged rocks peeked out from the sea, becoming submerged every few moments as another wave broke. The spray nearly reached the top of the cliff and the two watching took a step back, to stay safe. A faint light began to paint the eastern horizon grey, then white as the decrescent moon rose. As it cleared the horizon, a beam of reflections led across the water. The aurora began to fade from the north, leaving only a glow of green on the far horizon.