It is 10 pm but sleep eludes me. I am restless on the bed. The moonbeams cause pale shadows across my room. I get off the bed and walk over to the window.
I can see the nightscape… silent and peaceful.
As I look outside I espy some movement. Something is there in the shadows of the gate. I strain to see but can’t make out properly. I hear a faint flapping disturbing the silence of the night. I am not afraid. Just curious.
Then in the pale of the night I make out a sob. Is it a cry? Of distress? Quickly I throw on some clothes and tiptoe out through the door.
Just outside the range of the streetlamp there is something. I stop. I listen. A sob cuts the silence. It is muffled. I peer in the dark of the shadow. I can make out a silhouette against the pale wall. Someone is bent-over against the wall, palms clasped against the mouth, sobbing silently. The occasional sobs I hear are the ones that escape the hold.
Who is there? I say aloud.
There is a rustled silence. The silhouette freezes. Then the moon plays hide and seek with the clouds.