But I did write this yesterday, and before 11a as well....anyway...here you go, my
He’s out there again, brooding around in the dark, with the mist and the dark of the moon. He’s snooping around that lake again. Never tells a soul what he’s after, what he’s up to down there. You do have to wonder what the appeal is, out there, with that soupy fishy smell that leeches into your hair and your clothes.
No one is sure where this fellow came from either. He just showed up, picking through the trash outside Darla’s house. He seems mostly harmless. The kids avoid him like the plague, but the neighborhood dogs are always all over him, wanting to play and whatnot. He can’t be all bad if the hounds keep after him all the time.
Wonder what he’s looking for there. Fred told me the boy once told him he’d lost something when he got here and he’s trying to find something important. He can’t go home til he finds whatever it is. That young man must really like Fred, as he barely raises his eyes up to look at anyone human around here, much less speak to them.
I’ve seen him pick up baby birds and stick them right back in the nest and the mama bird never minds him a bit. The lad is a wonder. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, mind you. Those icy blue eyes of his, so pale they are almost colorless. He doesn’t always seem to be all there. Always something shifty going on there.
Out there in the night, all them vapors pouring up around him. It just doesn’t seem right. He never takes a flash light. We know he sometimes dives into the lake, because sometimes we see him walking around dripping water from all his pores, trailing marsh grasses along in his pockets.
He’s not all that bad. Just a strange one. I really do hope he finds what he’s looking for out there. I hope he doesn’t get hurt while he’s finding it either.