Path of Green Lamps

White pre-winter days. Only ventured outside briefly during daylight hours; a few charity shops, CEX, Replay, Sainsburys. That special kind of rain that nowhere late-autumn days have. Thick yet sparse. Chills you to the bone.
That white sky.
That emptiness about us.

Night falls so quickly now, dropped from that white void like concrete.
When I left Em's house it was full-dark. Only a few hours of pale washed out daylight now. Only five or six weeks away from mid-winter now.
Warmer than the afternoon.
Even the pavements had dried.

Went for a walk after dinner, out onto the Old Shoreham Road. Went up the side of Hove park, near the petrol station. A row of green street lamps lighting a path through the darkness. Spectral halos, sinister pools.
Street lamps are there to provide atmosphere, not illumination.
The green lamps made the darkness thicker, more palpable.
More full of ghosts.

Lost my direction in the suburban labyrinth beyond Hove Park.
New roads walked at night.

Back in the bedsit now.
That strange and heavy dread that precedes Monday.

Sleep and then the week begins.
Again.