The man in the trench coat ghosted through pools of light, shoulders hunched, satchel in hand. The orange glow that fell on him brought with it a sense of other-worldliness, as if this man did not quite belong.
He didn't.
On this unseasonably warm winter's night, he was a monster, his silhouette a lumpy creature of the darkness into which he melted with almost a sigh of relief.
This was a thing caught between imagination and reality, Cal decided, unzipping his jacket in a show of defiance. There was no man.
All the same, he turned, almost against his will, to look over his shoulder. Darkness. Just darkness.
Cal shivered.
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