The walk tonight wasn’t wonderful. All the usual things were
in place – it was a crisp, chilly night, Venus and Jupiter still appeared to want
to know one another, and the first quarter moon was casting deep shadows on the
lane.
But I was passed at speed four times by boy racers in souped
up cars playing thump thump music out
of the windows, which didn’t exactly match the atmosphere. Then I saw Cassie,
the pub dog, wandering the lanes by herself. I thought it sad, and wished she’d
been at home and snug in front of a fire. The piece-de-resistance,
though, was finding M’Lady’s house in total darkness. I’ve never seen that
before, and I admit it felt strange enough to engender a mild sense of
desolation. That’s just me being silly, of course, and I soon got rid of it,
but still...
It’s Saturday night, isn’t it? I’ve said before – more than
once – that Saturday night isn’t my favourite time of the week.
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