And what is a story, after all, but an escape hatch to a greener pasture, even when that pasture is visited at midnight (alone), beneath a Hunter's Moon, as the tendrils of a rolling blue fog coil their way into a starless sky, while a wolf bays from somewhere nearby, and a weathered scarecrow emerges from the fog, impassive and silent, and beckons you to come closer, with his unusually long straw hand.
And you do...
© Copyright 2010 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.
This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.