bin day today

                27 September 2016-

Search for the glasses, five thirty. They are on the table, where they had been left yesterday.
Calm down.
The cat is not in its usual place today.
Leave into the lamplit street, lock the door. There are rubbish bins on the pavement in front of every entrance today. It is bin day today      
The lamp light is dim, restricted to the area around the lamps themselves, dimming as the distance increases, dimming at a rate proportional to the square of the distance.

 Only distant lights make for even light displaying all in it's range more or less equally, and  that big light is over the horizon yet.

At the bus stop-Dolores nods her greeting from below a cloth coat, a warming coat, and now watch the pale reflector of the sunlight, crescent shaped now, over the town gate. The crescent has it's horns pointing away from the sun, the sun still below the horizon. It is so far away-the light on the moon and the light on the lit parts of the earth, all insignificant differences in intensity.

Under the lamplight a motor scooter driver approaches, on his tiny licence-free vehicle. It buzzes over the streets slowly, dim headlamp lighting the ground between the pools of light from the street lamps. His speed is constant and the light fallout dims between the lamps with the square of the distance.

Inversely, it will brighten at the same rate, 'the last few millimetres intolerably bright, an inferno of incandescent sodium vapour.

The bus arrives, a new driver. Pay for the short journey to the railway station, after being the last person to board. The bus has three passengers, two women and a man.

And there are no smokers at the station.