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Dusk gently descended upon the city
with the delicacy of a shadow, brushing
gently across every surface, the soft
kiss of darkness. The lights, reflecting
on the surface of the river, engendered
an enchanting luminescence within the
water. By some inexplicable act of
witchcraft, the city was no longer
illuminated by light falling from
the sky, but by a light rising
up from the depths of the river.

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About the author:

James Trotter

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James Trotter grew up in the US, but has since lived in the UK, Australia, and Dubai. He has been writing for a few years, but only recently began submitting his poems for publication.

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