Last Night after Dinner, a Fragment

A line of ships on the horizon, so far out in the night, they looked like the heads of steet lamps rising from the waters. The waves were so still... -in fact, there were no waves, just a vast stretch of water, timeless and paused, undulating slightly in the no-breeze.
A nearly full moon lit everything with milky, muted silver. Sillhouettes of late-summer revellers down by the waterline, behind us, dog walkers passed along the promenade.
Looking across the darkness of Hove Lawns the city seemed far away, almost shrunken.
A week until October and it still feels like summer.