Today's OneWord: Dusk

When the dusk had shrugged off its rosy cowl and nestled itself within the blue beard of night, I rode my motorcycle to the corner of Park and Baker and waited by the small general store sitting by the intersection.

It was cold and I drew my coat closer to me, my breath freezing on my visor. My father was meant to meet me here, ragged and gray and just as I expected him to. But it had been six minutes already past nine and he was nowhere to be seen.