Loose boards cracked and banged.
Swallows twittered as they flew in and out. The horses nuzzled me searchingly. The interior of the barn was ghostly dark. Outside was a grayish dawn. I was there for my predawn chores; I, a skinny youth of ten. All was right with the world except I heard spirits in the dark. Were they vagrants lurking? My heart would stop and I would freeze. Maybe they didn’t hear me. I listened intently. Now they were deathly quiet. I sighted the nearest pitchfork just in case. Suddenly I saw the light that maybe the city folk can’t see. We all find ourselves in dark, scary places; we walk in the light of day to find our way. (c) 2017 Larry Kilham
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