Night rain did not stop, as if it were the normal rain of the city. The rain fell hard on the street and on the roofs, and on every face. It was cold.
The rain was accompanied by a wind that blew the rain in great sheets, which, after passing the windows, turned into ice.
In the room, the light was extinguished, but the dark was not very dark, although the light of the night was reduced to its lowest intensity.
Night rain did not stop, as if it had come from heaven. It was a clear night, with stars twinkling overhead. The air was crisp and cool, and the moon was bright. They were surrounded by a thick forest of young trees, all felled in the past year, for the new roads. There were no more trees to be cut down, because there was no demand for them.
The forest was full of quiet, stillness. There was no sound of voices, no movement anywhere. Only the wind, carrying the smell of the rain, rustling the trees.
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