Early Morning.

Dawn: in a little house in one of the London boroughs. I was up extremely early, due to jet-lag, and I was looking out of the window of the small room, almost a box room, that I shared with my brother. As I looked out I could see the small, well-kept lawn that we often play football on. There was no such activity now. Instead, the cooing of pigeons and the melodious trilling of an …

…for a few seconds, with deep amber eyes that left no doubt that I had been seen, and then raced back the way that it had come, making no sound as it went through the dry and brittle vegetation at the back of the garden. And then it was gone, and the garden was left as still and as peaceful as before, although it seemed to me to be a little more vibrant in colour.