It's quiet around here.
Curtains are still drawn.
For days now, the conversation has become hushed when the presence of another approaches.
Sideways glances are given.
Pale and ashen faces scurry along the street, head down, a slight nod of acknowledgement but the weather and time remain unremarked upon.
The knowing nod and a stealthy passing of implements in the night.
A stillness has befallen.
The village pub lies still.
Eerie sounds come from behind the closed blinds.
The sound of crunching metal.
Splattering of wet substances splash against solid.
The continual drone of electricity.
The sharpening of knives.
Occasional cussings may cut through the silence.
This is a place no one in their right mind wants to disturb right now.
The eve of the village food and flower show has arrived...BAKE OFFFFFFF!!!
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