After a while I sense a paleness against the dark asphalt, and seek it out with my toe. The paper slides a bit, its rubber band twanging slightly as it scrapes the hard surface. I pick it up. Now I can use the paper as a feeler, holding it out to avoid colliding with either the lamp post or the bush as I find my way back to the front porch. The sky is sprinkled with stars, and the surrounding trees loom as ragged voids in dim night. My footsteps stilled, there is utter silence. It seems that not even the keenest sighted beasts have ventured out tonight. No dog has barked for hours.
After a while, I go back into the house and,not wanting to stumble over furniture, light a lamp. Its pale light is improbably bright. I toss the newspaper on a table, unread. I no longer care that the world has arrived.
