I sit, looking out through a drizzle spattered window. The sky is over-cast, grey from edge to edge like a dull steel blanket. No glorious autumn sunset tonight.
The evening draws in, and a squadron of starlings swoop and curl across the forbidding sky, searching for somewhere to roost. A shadowy figure in the distance waves at a security light, and it flicks on off, on off. The street-lamp glimmers on, smoky red, brightening to orange, and the raindrops on the window become gleaming specks of light against an ever darkening, rain-laden sky.
I shiver. I close the blind. I turn my back on the night.