Story Branch
I
do
not
often
walk
alone
at
night,
but
this
particular
night
I
did.
It
was
summer
and
there
was
a
pleasant
cool
breeze
coming
in
across
the
bay.
The
moon
hung
low
in
the
sky,
its
light
dancing
on
the
ripples
of
the
water.
The
streets
were
unusually
quiet,
save
for
the
occasional
rustling
of
leaves
or
the
distant
hum
of
a
car
engine.
I
had
no
real
destination
in
mind,
just
a
vague
desire
to
clear
my
head
after
a
long
day.
[p]
As
I
walked,
the
scent
of
saltwater
mingled
with
the
earthy
aroma
of
the
trees
lining
the
path.
I
passed
familiar
landmarks—Mrs.
Hargrove’s
bakery,
its
lights
still
glowing
faintly
from
within,
and
the
old
clock
tower
whose
chimes
had
long
since
stopped
working.
[p]
The
further
I
wandered,
the
more
the
town
seemed
to
fade
into
shadow.
Streetlights
became
sparse,
and
the
houses
gave
way
to
open
fields
stretching
toward
the
horizon.
A
peculiar
stillness
settled
over
everything.