notes from out there.

Past 10pm and the village has its own ghosts. Standing in the frame of an open door, staring into fuzzy darkness, trying to tell where the light ends and untouched night begins. Sound of a car in the distance. Some drops of water making their way down through leaves. Outer and inner voices raising disputes that drain souls without getting anywhere. A dog barking in the fields. Restless and weary.

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