Thursday, 11 February 2016

How did it come to this?

The half moon hangs high in the dark blue sky, and wisps of cloud, like smoke, drift lazily past it's dull white surface.
There is no wind tonight, not at ground level anyway, far from the sky and the lazy clouds.
The night is dark and still, no thing moves, no sound can be heard.
It is cold, and the temperature is still dropping, it will most likely freeze tonight.
Beyond the edge of the farmers fields the trees at the edge of the forest stand still and black against the sky, like soldiers waiting for instruction.
I am still, like the sentinel trees.
I am cold, like the tips of the grasses.
I stand in the field, tall and still.
My wide eyes drink in the landscape surrounding me, fuzzy in the darkness, like an impressionist painting.
I sigh and it is the only sound in an otherwise noiseless night.
My warm breath leaves my slightly open mouth and hangs like mist in the cold air in front of my face.
I become aware that my nose is numb and I try to wiggle it up and down.
My feet are wet, or maybe they are just very cold, I cannot tell any more.
I look down at my feet, planted firmly upon the ground, lost somewhere beneath the tangle of grasses covering the field floor.
The grass needs cutting, a bizarre thought at this moment in time.
My eyes drift from the dark blades of grass covering my bare feet to the still silhouette of the body lying in front of me.
He is not breathing and although in the darkness I cannot see clearly I know that blood stains his clothes.
I raise my head to look again at the pale half moon in the dark blue sky.
A single thought hangs in my mind, suspended like the moon.
How did it come to this?

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