The sound of crunching gravel was the only thing that pierced the silence as Peter walked. It was funny actually. For being the city that never sleeps, it sure was quiet in Central Park. Then again, maybe the sounds of the hustle and bustle of city life couldn't penetrate the secluded walkway, encased in trees and plant-life as he was.
Peter loved the city, loved the life. Everything was so alive in New York, everyone trying to get somewhere, lights always flashing, sounds filling the air like no tomorrow. But sometimes, he liked the silence too. Sometimes, like tonight, he just liked to walk and hear nothing but the sound of his own footsteps as he made his way along one of the many trails in the Park. Sometimes he liked the solitude.
A sound ahead made his head snap up. It was late, even by a New Yorker's standards, and it wasn't often that he met anyone on one of his trail walks. Not twenty feet in front of him stood a man, tall and bundled up in a long coat to stave off the bitter cold of night. Peter saw a glint, moonlight reflecting off of the man's glasses.
The other man had stopped; presumably he had seen Peter and was shocked as well to run into someone at a late time as this. Neither made a move. Neither spoke. The only sounds were the faint noises of crickets in the bushes and the soft breathes that puffed out into white clouds in the cold air.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the moment was broken. The other man nodded at Peter and they slowly crossed paths, each continuing on their midnight walk through Central Park. Peter didn't look back as the man walked away, but he could hear the soft crunch of gravel fading into the distance.