Late in the garden

To me, it’s weird to leave a residence in South Africa at night. It’s like you slide into an abyss. Every garden surrounds a home; a wall outlines every garden. The walls are topped with electric fencing. Inside the wall you’re on an oasis of calm. Lights from the house and the lanterns illuminate the foliage in colors you understand. When you venture out the streetlights feel foreign and cold. As you pass through the gate the shadows shift. Or do they move?
Late in the garden
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