I stopped on Howard Street last night just before midnight. A light, misty fog had settled quietly over the village. I felt strangely alone, as if the entire island belonged just to me.....my only companions the long-dead villagers reposing on the far side of the cemetery fence. Even the stars and new moon, so bright and luminous only a short while before, had retreated behind the encroaching mist.
I was in no hurry to move along. Somehow the fog felt protective rather than threatening. I walked slowly home, content with life and my place in it.