One. Two. Three. Four. Whizzing past. The open window leaves a shadow. The soft, steady, breathing from across the room. The light buzzing of the wind and creatures of the night. The frogs sing there song, the crickets strum along, the grass does it's dance. All under the spot light of the moon. I sit. I watch. Patiently, for the next flash, then shadow to run across the wall. Seventeen. Yes, seventeen seems about right. That's more than usual... I suppose it's been a busy night.
©maymayduck
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