The full white moon hung in the ink black sky looking down upon the still village. Anyone walking past or through would believe the buildings to be abandoned. There were wooden boards nailed at windows and doors. Crosses, often makeshift ones, hung about and the air smelt strangely sweet.Plant pots of blooming purple flowers were close to every door as well as mistletoe. Small green trees, turning gold by the autumn season, were also growing very close to the sides of the houses as well as in the surrounding fields. It was easy to see that the only thing this village planted was rye. The gold grain grew tall in the fields and looked almost ready for harvesting. Also, if anyone choice to walk around the edges of the village, they would find the river had been made to circle around the fields. So, it seemed the villagers had decided to become islanders.

Source: Moonlit | The Story Files