Evening Post, May 30, 2019

I wouldn’t have thought that anybody would be out in this rain.  That’s probably why it scared me so when I saw the limbs of the sumac shake and the grey, bent figure come out from under them.  It was raining so hard that you couldn’t hear anything else, just the pounding of the raindrops on the leaves everywhere, the wind swishing the branches back and forth, and the water running in the gutters and coursing down the downspouts like an electric current.

I sat frozen on the back porch, already afraid of this man who was obviously too crazy to come in out of the rain and I wondered what evil purpose might possess him to walk through the woods in this loud storm.  He carried a canvas bag over one shoulder – one like the old paperboys used to wear – and he held a staff taller than himself in his right hand.

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