Where The Dark Lives

       Being uneasy stalks a person like a striped cat in tall grass waiting for hours as little birds hop unknowingly closer in their search for seed and fresh worms. Its wild tail slapping the ground on both sides in untamed eagerness to hold beating wings between clean paws. Fear needs no reasoning, no excuses, no warning. No one needs the darkness of woods, the shadows of trees at an open back, or calls in the distant dark to pull a hat down low over the eyes and walk faster toward the light.

                                     For One I Love, You Are Not Alone.



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