The rain had left small pools along the paths, reflecting the lantern light. The flower garden was dark beneath the tree, but its little wooden markers were still visible.
He walked over to the bench and sat down.
The wood was cool beneath his hands.
He could hear the steady flow of water from the stream, the rustling of leaves, and the distant sounds of the others settling into their homes.
Tomorrow will bring more work.
The storehouse needed a proper roof. The covered sitting area needed planning. The vegetable beds would need attention, and the garden would eventually need a table.
But none of it had to be finished tonight.
Jude looked toward the cabins, where warm light shone through the small windows.
Then he stood, walked back along the path, and closed the door behind him.
Outside, the last drops of rain fell from the leaves.
The village slept beneath a clear night sky, while the island quietly recovered from the storm.
