Together In the Fields Near Caverley During A Time Of Difficulty

–
A soft wind. A still night.
I’m looking for the path that cuts through the woods and into the open field.

It’s dusk and the clouds are heavy.

A triangular void tipped by two lights stealths though the dark blue sky.

You know one is for port side and one is for starboard, but its
wrongness is suddenly so alien that you’re seized with a sense of dread, frozen, a kid’s horror of a 50s B-movie spaceship coming from very far away to invade all you know.

It passes.

There’s just the two of us. Stella’s face glowing white, a ghost’s face, calmly chasing her ever-widening circles of invisible prey into the wet fields, into the darkening hull of ageless night.