Stay at the water's edge

A drifting rustling is all you hear as the silent night envelops you once more. Looking up to the brilliant moon, you wonder what your purpose here is. Quiet reflection take hold of you as a dark form takes shape upon the waters.

The thin moonlight glimmers on the small choppy waves of the darkened lake surface. Everywhere upon that body of water are those dull white reflections except for the tiny black figure making its way slowly towards you. A sense of Eeriness replaces the aching of your head and body. Your stomach twists as you peer at the approaching mystery rocking upon the waters.

At first the shape begins to look as though it were a statue floating atop the surface. The moonlight catches what looks like a cloak upon a massive stone chiseled sculpture. Your thoughts turn to stone angels serenely looking down upon you from their graveyard perches. No, this foreboding thing has no wings, no placid smile, no serenity to offer. Its approach nears and in the dark of night you see its cloaked arms moving an oar to and fro in time with the lake's motions.

As your panic sets in your mind begins to race. You should hide; should run for the tree-line; or maybe, you think, you should just settle down. Despite your paranoia you know there are no monsters lurking within the dark. Regardless of anything you think at this moment, the lakeman nears. You see his great grey robes heavily swaying upon the deck of a small wooden raft now. Back and forth he treads ink black water on either side of his raft as he noiselessly dips his oar again and again.