Street Lamp
The sky is a mixture of tones - dark blue and black, the summer evening thunderstorm has passed.
But it is hard to see all that. The street lamp fixed to the façade of the terraced cottage dominates the night.
In front of the house someone hesitates before knocking. She is alone. She wonders if she is doing the right thing.
Close at hand, leaning on the window ledge of his hotel room, someone else can see the glow of the street lamp rising above the wavy line of the rolled clay roof tiles. He, too, is alone. For the moment.
The woman cannot see the man. The man cannot see the woman. They can both see the street lamp.
How different things might have been ...
