Amsterdam

I

Henrick opened the door. It was a black and unforgiving night and he could only just see the waves of the canal in the light of the dimly lit moon.

He couldn’t see anything. The sudden smash that had made him get up to investigate had left no obvious legacy. He stood on his tip toes to see over the other side of the canal but saw nothing. Turning back and picking up his book he continued to read and, after a few minutes, was completely absorbed in his novel.

My next Short Story should be on time...