The light of the moon was dazzling. A silver orb hanging in the sky, it shone and sparkled as bright as the stars surrounding it. The earth below was illuminated in its strong glow.
From within the copse, you couldn’t see the effect of the moon on the rest of the world. The canopy stretched almost entirely across the arc of the sky above, and the area was lit only by small beams of light filtered through branches. The two people hidden amongst the dark foliage of the forest floor could see barely eight feet in front of them, but that suited them fine. They had chosen this place to hide because of the gloom that surrounded them. It mattered little that their eyes would get no chance to adjust to brightness, and the beauty of the moon certainly didn’t occupy a second of their minds. Instead, they enjoyed their own dreams and the solitude of the woods.
But nine feet away from where they rested stood a man and a woman, the nearby beam of moonlight dazzling their eyes. “Are you sure?” the male asked, running his thumb over the trigger of the torch he held in his right hand.
The female, her tears invisible in the darkness, croaked simply, “yes. That’s them.”
Every day during February I’m going to write a piece of creative writing inspired by a prompt. The prompts have been taken from here, although I may shuffle some of the days around if I fancy.