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[personal profile] rejectomorph
If I turn off my lights, the moonlight, filtered through the pine trees, falls into my room in bright patterns. No breeze, and the only sound is the distant chirping of crickets in the orchard. Whatever became of the tree frogs? There once were so many here. They have gone the way of the bats. Bats. Yes. It would be nice to see bats flying across that moon. Full tomorrow night, I think. Full Moon and bats. The perfect combination for summer in decline.

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rejectomorph

May 2026

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