The faint white glow of the streetlamp flickered in the grey, oily puddles. Fat droplets of rain streamed down the dirty glass of the bus shelter. Huddled against the darkening light, an old man shivered slightly. His head was in his purple veined hands, and he sighed every now and then. He reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a heavy gold chain. He checked the pocket watch for what felt like the 50th time that night. Rain dripped from a corner of the shelter onto the man’s balding head. Wisps of tangled grey hair lay flat against his dry scalp. His skin looked like paper that was scrunched up. The man’s eyes shone with a distant light just like a twinkling star. Clutching his cloak tightly around his shoulders against the cold, the man reached down and checked the clasp of the suitcase. The bag was battered, its brown leather worn thin. As he drew his hand away, the bag began to shake. He looked around multiple times. Then, out of the thin air, an old piece of elm wood, about 11 inches in length appeared. Mehr sehen