The Writer glances up. Her smile is quick and ready. “I have a story, if anyone is interested in hearing it.” The visitors around her clamour for her to tell it, and with a smile wreathing her lips, she begins.
The twilight was dim as she stepped forward. It was very pleasant in the autumn, the air a touch cooler than she might like; but that was what walking briskly was for. She waited with barely concealed impatience for her best friend. Once the other joined her, with a swift smile, they walked. Only she ran, her best friend constantly calling her back. The pair of them played in the twilight, the night slowly darkening and blurring the outlines of everything, She ran on until her friend called her back.
“It’ll be gettin’ dark. We’d best go home, eh?”
She turned and obediently walked beside her friend. She was tired, but not exhausted. And oh, she was so happy.
And then her best friend, who she was walking with, looked down at her with a smile. She patted her head.
The Writer laughed. “‘Tisn’t as long as you might hope. Ah, well, next time perhaps! I’ve got to go and figure out my programming.” Still laughing, she rose and left, the mists enshrouding her completely in an instant.