51

It was closer now, it could see movement in the house, dark figures against the light that shone through the windows.  It was neither wary nor alarmed, but challenged.  They might see it, they might not, but they could not stop it.

Then the light was gone, vanished as if sucked up by the night.

It halted, to assess the change, to reassure itself that the failure was not in itself.

No, it could see forms — the dark lump of the house against the black slate of the sky.  As its eyes adjusted to the darkness, it even saw a pink glow from somewhere inside the house.

It resumed its march, and soon it was by the side of the building.  It circled slowly, deliberately, seeking entry.

It found a door, a thin thing of wood and glass, and drew back an arm to destroy it.