A cold night in Swansea
It was a cold wet evening in Swansea. There was a dull light coming from the moon, which was only added to by the dim glow of streetlights, which were placed either side of the tall detached houses. Cars were parked on the side of the road with uniform spaces in-between. It was quiet, strangely quiet, like an empty church. There was no traffic going along the road and there wasn’t a sound to be heard except the footsteps of a young lady.
Rose was in her early twenties, slim, and just under six foot tall. She had a light complexion and long, straight, fair hair. Her eyes were as blue as a clear summer sky and she seemed to light up the room when she arrived. She could have had her pick of any men. Despite all this, it was not unusual for her to be walking by herself at this time of night. She had arranged to meet some friends in a bar and had waited for more than half an hour but they had failed to turn up. As she only lived ten minutes walk away, she had decided that the exercise would do her good. She wasn’t worried about walking unaccompanied as this had happened to her in the past. But for some reason on this night she felt quite nervous, and decided to pick up the pace.