Behind the factory, a small dark parking lot in the dead of night. The winter sky is scattered clouds, dim stars peek through, hazen by the city light. This is a moment amid the work, a step aside from obligations knowing the return step comes in stride. In the days and minutes this place is mine, the shadows and snow mounds, I know the cracks in the asphalt, the vines in the chain link fence. There is no seat, but many perches to lean.
A concrete bollard heaped in iced snow, one step further than the building, merely out of spite. The machines inside voice their labor wearily, too little oil, too many years, but the chorus is dulled by the walls. The light of the Moon casts on my breath, bringing it solidity in the cold air.
The Moon casts new shadows all over, unfamiliar, harsh. Bushes become pocked in holes, mounds along the snow reveal themselves. It's a different place than mine. The footsteps of birds become vacuous, their new depths visible, welcoming, taunting. All these lines draw to a new center, the Moon. It clears the clouds, a monolith of stark light, larger than the sky itself.
An owl rustles in the dark of a tree. Mice gallivant in the footsteps of birds. The wind whips its' claws and rip away the breath from my face. The machines have gone silent for who knows how long, and only the cracking of night can be heard. The fragile tinkle of snow welding into ice. My king, the Moon wanders the sky with an expediency uncommon for the sky. It pays me no heed, a common lord of nothing. The giant slips behind clouds again and is gone. The machines are loud again, as they always were. The owl swoops away to hunt. The pocks and caverns return to their normal depths. The wind still takes my breath; not all is forgotten.
Played using Under Strange Moons, ranks only.
Draws: 6 of diamonds, 8 of spades, 6 of spades; 4 of spades.
Approximate play time: 15 minutes.