Thursday, October 22, 2009

Thirstday's excerpt

Over the split-rail fence at the property line, a quilt hung—pretty, but out of place. The morning breeze was barely discernible, but enough to flap the bottom left corner back and forth, like the tail of a fawn learning to graze.

It was hard to make out the design of the thing, and impossible to decipher the colors, but he was familiar with the lore associated with its placement.