It's unnaturally quiet outside. You stay by the beacon, listening to your own heartbeat. Tonight's the night.

Outside was unnaturally quiet. She kept watch by the beacon, her fingertip resting on the switch, listening to her own heartbeat. Any day now.

It's unusually quiet outside. You stay by the beacon, fingertip pressed against the switch, like guarding a shipment about to be dispatched. It should be any day now.