Strange Encounter

Strange Encounter It was a silent night if not holy, it was overcast the electric gone, no streetlamps or moon. A knock on my door a bundle of night asked to come in because he was afraid of the darkness, He sat by the candlelight warming his hands and became almost transparent you could see he had lived long; the blessed sun had never warmed his face never had he seen sunlight make rippling sea into gold. Towards dawn got his spirit up and smiled... then he seeped out just as the light came back on.