He stood at the bend in the road, against the single lamppost. If you didn't pay attention, you might not even notice him. Cars taking might have slowed down if they noticed him, but they didn't. The odd passers-by walked past, realising he was there only after. He was waiting.
It was a cold night. The firm wind gave intent and direction to the snow flakes, making the tiny white specks cut through the air like a charging Roman cavalry. If you listened carefully, you could hear the trees groan like the falling soldiers under the Roman charge. Yet, he stood there, against the lamppost, waiting.
He looked up at the trampling hoofs of the snow. He looked down at his black coat, and saw it riddled with white bullet holes of snow. He did wonder if anyone noticed him, whether he would die there alone, how long he would wait. He was expecting the car to arrive 5 minutes ago.
Uncle T
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