Venus stood alone high in the West, shrouded by the dusk and luminous drapery of golden clouds, bright against the darkening sky. We three walked quietly and heard only the thin far whistle of a freight train destined for another town and a black crow needing no shadow took one last flight across the bright indigo.

Young boys played with a basketball and a hoop in their driveway, the light from the garage backlighting them, small imps leaping and the bouncing ball, grunts of exertion as they stretched for the rim. I could not see their faces.

Somewhere a hound sounded against the coming dark, and I could count the seconds in the space of our footsteps clocking against the black asphalt. In the half light and gloaming the shadows creep forth, become harder and breathe their release from the daylight.

Past dusk the real world is best seen through the corners of the eye, the shape blurs and the motion becomes round and somehow sinister. The darkness comes slowly alive and the light fades. The arc of the burning cigarette, a cat leaping a fence, the swing of the leg, and the shadow cast by the light from a window matching the motions.

I could disappear into the dark, change my face, hold the shadows in an embrace as the stars wheel and Venus blazes bright against the black velvet.