“Darkness is simply the absence of light, and what is light if not love!”
Esmee watched as the short, little man with black hair and an orange beard preached his sermon from his wooden crate halfway up Newmarket High Street.
“What a nutter,” said the woman beside her on the bench, stabbing a plastic fork into a pasta-pot before drawing both fork and container as close to her mouth as she could.
“BE SOMEONE’S LIGHT AND BANISH THEIR DARKNESS!” screamed the preacher.
No, Esmee thought, sliding her hand into her pocket, playing in the darkness was much more fun.