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.


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