I was worn out. I finished loading the groceries in the car. It was 7 p.m. – and there would be a ninety mile drive back home. I slammed down the hatch, stopped to catch my breath and looked east. A half moon had risen. A boneless scarecrow waved its arms, bowed and twisted. It was too easy to tell myself a story that it was praying to the moon. I took a photo, promised my self to forget what I’d seen and drove home.
Now you can see what I saw. Now you can imagine the figure moving.. Now you can write your own story.
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