It should have struck me as odd that a gentleman of his
dress and caliber should be out so late at night without an escort -
such as he would have been gladly mugged by the first cretin who saw
him.
The stranger stepped past me without another word,
continuing on his way. I stood for a moment, unsure what to think of
this mysterious man who had halted my journey home. It was not
unusual for visitors in town to ask for directions and I was always
one willing to help if I could. But my reaction to this gentleman was
bizarre. I had never had such distaste for someone after only a
moment of meeting. I was quite baffled by it.
Shaking my head to clear out the strangeness, I resumed my
travels homeward. The clearness of the night persisted, but the moon
became hidden. It seemed to stick in my mind, like a thorn, that I
could not see the man’s face. It was drawn in shadow when it should
not have been. The street lantern had been right in front of me as I
was halted, so that when I turned to face him it should have lit his
features clearly, not veiled them. I pushed the thought from my mind,
thinking my wits were simply playing tricks on me, as it had been a
long day and I was quite tired.
I reached the lane to which I had directed the gentleman and
looked along the alleyway he would have traveled had he followed my
instruction. He was nowhere in sight; but as the pub was barely half
a block from the corner, the distance could have been trekked fairly
quickly by a person of his height. The unexpectedly enticing idea of
going down to the pub to have a glass of wine drifted into my mind,
almost as if some friend had whispered the thought quietly into my
ear. But it was late and I chose to continue home rather than stay out
in the night any longer. So, on I walked, passing shops and stands of
all descriptions, most of which were closed for the evening. Their
owners gone to whatever place they could afford to call home in this
cavity of a city.
102