Last night, as the early hours of darkness settled, Andy dragged his overflowing trash cans toward the road. Casually, his eyes swept across the far hills where ground met glittering sky. Andy spotted the top of Orion's belt. Already, the winter constellations were rising.
At first, he failed to register the oddity. But recognition rumbled into his brain a moment later. His feet skittered. He stopped. As they often did before the frosts, the crickets sang restlessly around him.
Andy peered into the distance. His forehead wrinkled in bewilderment.
It was a glowing sphere. Bouncing and circling over the grass. The light was diffuse and gentle, like moonlight trickled into a cloud. It danced and spiraled--playful, mischievous, too swift for hands. Andy's eyes chased the blurred movements.
The crickets droned on.
Nothing his brain pieced together could explain what he was seeing. He released the cans and stepped forward, leaving the safety of his lit windows. He rubbed his hands on his jeans. He squinted, then eased back onto his heels.
And he wondered what the hell the thing might be.
On to Part 3
Back to Part 1
Based on the legend of the Will-o'-the-Wisp