A Brief Case
The little cream car crawled through the gloom, its headlamps the only artificial light for miles around. The moon watched dispassionately as the little machine narrowly avoided another hedgerow, another occulted ditch. Inside, the driver swore under her breath, wishing she'd left her sister's house earlier. The countryside, so familiar to her under the gentle sun of her childhood, had turned crooked and strange in the darkness.
