Monday, July 19, 2010

Old Man Blurred into the Sky

Each batch of thunder arose independently, as though unassociated with the pensive, impatient lightning. Gusts over the green beckoned the clouds to move west but they defiantly churned eastward. We sat loose-limbed in our lawn chairs cradling our cozies and watching the old man who was watching the sky. He was concerned but not alarmed.

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