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Letters: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Captivity
Captivity
Date: 15 April 2011, 02:06

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I SUPPOSE many lonely souls have sat at their windows many nights looking out into the flood of moonlight, sad
with a sadness that knows no comfort, a sadness underlined by a beauty that is in itself a pleasant kind of
sorrow-but very few ever have seen what I saw that night.
I leaned against the window frame, close enough to the inflooding light so that it washed across my bare feet and
the hem of my gown and splashed whitely against the foot of my bed, but picked up none of my features to
identify me as a person, separate from the night. I was enjoying hastily, briefly, the magic of the loveliness before
the moon would lose itself behind the heavy grove of cottonwoods that lined the creek below the curve of the
back-yard garden. The first cluster of leaves had patterned itself against the edge of the moon when I saw himthe
Francher kid. I felt a momentary surge of disappointment and annoyance that this perfect beauty should be
marred by any person at all, let alone the Francher kid, but my annoyance passed as my interest sharpened.
What was he doing-half black and half white in the edge of the moonlight?
In the higgledy-piggledy haphazardness of the town Groman's Grocery sidled in at an angle to the back yard of
the Somansons' house, where I boarded-not farther than twenty feet away. The tiny high-up windows under the
eaves of the store blinked in the full light. The Francher kid was standing, back to the moon, staring up at the
windows. I leaned closer to watch. There was a waitingness about his shoulders, a prelude to movement, a
beginning of something. Then there he was-up at the windows, pushing softly against the panes, opening a dark
rectangle against the white side of the store. And then he was gone. I blinked and looked again. Store. Windows.
One opened blankly. No Francher kid.

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