Pitch Black

After midnight in the deep blackness of a starless night, myself and Robbie found ourselves walking the vicar’s footpath, passing waterlogged fields. Silence and stillness surrounded us, for even the sheep lay still. Only the faint silhouette of fence posts indicated that we were keeping to the vicar’s choice, a narrow footpath linking the vicarage and alms house to the village church. In times past those living in the alms house would have had to pay a stipend to the vicar to use this path. Of course in those days it was mandatory to visit the church if you lived in the alms house. As we reached the dark outline of the church boundary wall we turned left to follow a narrow road past the old library and the village school.

What’s that doing there! a large van blocked the road. Thief’s in the night? Taking courage in hand we eased slowly down the side of the van, to be met with o so bright lights. Three strong spot lights illuminated a gang of men. Your working late tonight? was my comment to the gent sat in the darkness of an unlit cab. His charge a JCB digger, had dug a large hole, in which illuminated by the spot lights, his comrades laboured to repair a failed electric cable. After a brief cheerful exchange I left them to their work and completed Robbie’s midnight walk.

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