Nightwalker

A Story by BL

300 words

One of her hobbies was night walking and often during the week, late in the evening she would set off dressed for a hike. I wasn't that worried about her as she looked quite formidable, a figure of strength and capability in her knee length waterproof overcoat and hat with its own guttering for rainstorms. I watched her as the scurry of her feet took her up the hill, her scarf waving in the breeze. Behind her the moon stood full and bright, unblinking. She looked happy as though she had reached where she wanted to be, like in a warm embrace. At the top she paused, hovering her shoes an inch above the pavement, considering each area of ground below, savouring every step.

While I was spending the hours reading and watching TV, with the rain lashing on the window she would be out pacing the streets. Later I would be closing the house, turning off lights and pulling the curtains to. and would stare out at the night and she'd be in it, in its depths.

She wouldn't come back for many hours and usually return in the middle of the night at four o clock. She would come in quietly enough, but then would rattle around in the kitchen jangling cutlery and putting away crockery. I would be awake with the moonlight on my face, just listening. The kettle would boil, a teaspoon would clink and then her footsteps would bump up the stairs.

Sometimes I would call across the hall 'Did you have a good walk?'

'Yes,' she'd shout back,

'No problems then?'

'No of course not,' she'd say defensively.

'Good, goodnight then,'

'Good night dear. Sorry if I woke you.' By that time I was fast asleep, i just wanted to know she was safe.