John slowly stepped down the hill, he had taken his leather jacket out of his car and had it slung over his arm. The arm still hurt. It was freezingly cold, his breath almost freezing against his cheeks. He slipped into his jacket while he continued downwards. The slope was steep, he had to pick his steps carefully over the grassy hill the night was clear and the moonlight gave him a basic vision. Down there was the girl, brightly shining, almost rivaling the stars, in her purely white dress. How had she made it down here so quickly in her white high heels? She hugged herself closely, rubbing off the goose bumps appearing on her naked arms and watched. John stopped beside her.
“Are they coming?”, he asked.