November story - #3

In the darkness of the night, the beams of the headlights roved across the landscape. The road wound its way across the flat landscape, indiscernible, even in the faint light of the moon to the east. Buildings flashed by, and presently, a row of lights, indicating the next village loomed up ahead. The streetlights were switched off as it was well past midnight. Only outside lights in the houses provided some illumination. The vehicle stopped, and the engine was switched off. A door opened, and the driver stepped out, holding a torch. A stile appeared in its beam, and the man stepped up and sat on the top step. Darkness enveloped him, but sounds carry further when there is no light - perhaps because other senses become more acute when one is inactive. Nocturnal sounds of birds in the near distance, beyond the next field. A small bird reserve. Looking east, a few birds could be seen against the light of the moon, now rising clear of nearby houses. After a few minutes, the car drove off again, into the next village. The road signs at the junction reflected brightly in its headlights, pointing left to the end of the road - and right towards the main town, more than 25 miles away to the south. Silence fell again as the night started to grow old. Soon, dawn would break.

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