1000 AD.) By the light of a midnight moon the town of Leppington lay sleeping. Twenty hours of heavy July rain filled the streets with pools of water that glittered silver. Each one duplicated the image of the moon. A hard disk as white as bone that oh-so faintly revealed dead lunar seas. The girl walked barefoot down the deserted street, her toes sinking into puddles, annihilating those shimmering copies of a faraway world. I’m late, she told herself. I’m too late; they’ll have left without me. Those urgent thoughts pulsed through her mind. She moved faster: a lonesome figure gliding through this remote Yorkshire town that is a desolate and eerie place at this time of night. Above still glistening rooftops that burned with silver dashes of moonlight, she glimpsed the range of dark, forbidding hills that formed an unbroken wall as if to keep Leppington town an eternal prisoner. Thoughts darted fiercely, prompting her to break into a run. I’m going to leave here. You can’t keep me forever.
