![]() Someone stood behind the screen door, a smear of gray a shade lighter than the darkness inside the house.Īt the top of the faint figure was the gnarled suggestion of a face. A tribunal of cats sat on their haunches all over the porch, fifteen or twenty of them: calico, tortoise-shell tabbies, midnight-blacks, two Siamese, an orange Morris with brilliant green eyes. She whirled around and the world whipped to the left, revealing the front of the white tract house and its shadowy porch, arrayed with boxes of junk, chairs, yellowed and fraying newspaper. Halfway across the yard, she paused and turned to point the camera up into the branches of the lemon tree, the aperture whirring as she zoomed in on it.Ī snowy owl perched in the masterwork of shadows some eight feet up, throat pulsing, hoo, hoo, hu-hu. The camera zoomed out as the owl took flight and left the screen stage right. The girl in the video crept up the front walk of the tract house. ![]() O VERGROWN GRASS AROUND A lemon tree, shadowy front porch with no porch light. ![]()
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