As a reprt writer you're much more constrained by reality than those who are liberated by the fancies of prognostication found in the dreaming up of a preview!
To begin at the beginning:
It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless
and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched,
courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the
sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboatbobbing sea.