She's late - again! Turning to the window, I focus my spyglasses on the house on the hilltop and mark my target. I zoom in on candlelight at the patio's edge. A moth flits and retreats to the waning and advance of the hot flashes, its midnight dance. She swoops closer, the flame's brightness an irresistible beckoning, and there's a flash and a tinge of smoke. Perpetually returning, the
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