Observations from the Bottom of the Page
two crows crossed the snowy field. one paused to scoop something from behind the rustic wooden crucifix that marked the property of the antioch baptist church on the other side of townline road. he lowered his rifle and realized that nothing worthwhile had appeared in the crosshairs of his scope for the past three days. the shots he had taken were pointless, as pointless as the preacher's sunday ramblings about god and fidelity.
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