Everybody slept at eight. You had to sleep by eight. The air grew still as the sun went down, such was the way of the savannah. By the time darkness had enveloped the world, the constant patter of feet heard throughout the day disappeared.
Once in a while, one of the goats would make a noise, otherwise, it was dead silence, like a drawn breath- the night was listening. Huddled inside their rooms praying were the superstitious, trying to ward of Dimka son of the soil, who it was said came for human sacrifice around this time.
Silence, the air is gone now and inside everyone moves as far from the window as they can. They had all heard of the one who looked out, saw a pair of eyes and was never seen again. It will be long till day break.