I never did care for the dark. I prefer to be indoors during the night and in bed well before ten o'clock. If not for a peculiar obligation I wouldn't have gone out at all. The light was distant and and shadows refused to give way in the alley behind the row of brick buildings. I knocked on the door and waited. "Wound!" came a voice from behind the small opening in the center of the door. I hesitated. "Wound, I say," it spoke again, annoyed. "I have the note," I said stuttering. "I don't want the note. I want the counter-sign." "Oh sorry." I was begining to loose my confidence. The little confidence I brought with me would hopefully see me through. The voice sighed, "'Oh sorry' isn't correct. Go away!" If only I had some light. I didn't like talking to strangers in the dark and I probably never will. I reached into my pocket and produced a small pen-light. I turned it on and illuminated the area with a piercing glow. "Turn that off you idiot!" The voice was becoming angry. I turned off my light but quietly lamented its loss. "Wound, for the last time." I almost froze but soon regained my wits. "Case!" I said excitedly, glad to be done with it. "Now give me the note and be fast about it." I reached into my pockets and them my other pockets and back again. "Oh dear. Sir, I think I've left it at home." In the absence of light I think the head attached to the voice was shaking but, I'll never know. "You're joking I assume?" said the voice. This was going to be a long and stressful night.