It wasn’t late, but darkness had set in, punctuated by pulsating city lights and streaming lights of passing cars. A few people wandered past, but found us of little interest, which suited us fine. The trees rustled softly, resplendent with their dainty fairy lights.
The park next to the Civic Centre was covered with a rich green carpet stained by the night to a depth of colour one recalls seeing in that fabulous marble in old churches around Italy. Dark green seeping into black. Magnificent rows of budding marigolds reached up from their raised brick beds reinvigorated after the days taxing heat... their lines converging into the ever-present darkness as if returning home. Steal away... steal away.
I recall from my brief glimpse at it, that there was the most lovely Christmas tree nearby. Beautiful red decorations perfectly placed. It seemed to me, as I perceived it , in fleeting seconds, to stand for something perfect. Yes, it was truly perfect, as I recall.
