Sunday night--I go outside. Canine neighbour comes to play. There's pale watery moonshine. The frogs and crickets chorus; fireflies make patterns in the foliage. I see white cotton wool clouds sailing swiftly overhead, pushed by dark grey, and soon all that's visible of the moon is a faint glow. The darkness is deep. I know my dog friend is coming only by the white patch on his chest and his four white paws. I think it's prudent to move back inside.
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