Here I was.

Corderian summer night; imagine it, if you will.

the blackness of the sky, peppered with glowing stars. the moon, a shimmering half smile without dark clouds to hide its face. the weeping willows waving and sighing romantically in the soft cool breeze that crawls and swims on it's belly like a fat watersnake among them. the beeches and pines made less noise, laden with the hunched figures of day birds clinging to the branches. a couple of humble crickets made it their personal affair to break the whispering stillness with their warm ups. a Corderian summer night in an old overgrown field. nothing could be more perfect. well, things could be a little bit more satisfactory. they were late, and I was tired. the corners of my eyes sagged and the lids felt unreasonably heavy. I yawned and smacked my lips. the closest cricket stopped whistling as if offended that I had broken his concentration. sorry there pal, I thought blearily. if only they'd get here. I can't work when I'm this sleepy, as they know full well. I tried to keep my self entertained a little longer. I counted the stars three times. I tore up a strip of grass repeatedly, over and over again, until it was nothing but pulp. I sighed. I did sit ups. I opened my eyes as far as they could go. I yawned. this country Corderia is a fine and beautiful one, if not a bit predictable. there were probably thousands of empty, unused fields exactly like this one spread generously throughout it. maybe they got lost. maybe they went to the wrong field. to think that they might have gotten lost made me feel a bit better about the whole thing, and if they also wound up in a field a hundred miles from here--well, let's just say I'm not fond of my employers. but they keep me employed right enough, and that's all I care about. a sudden fit of surprised squawking burst the silence like a balloon, followed by the sound of desperate wings as a stream of dark shapes exploded from the nearby trees. crickets stopped making noise altogether. my hopes deflated with a sad little phut. they were here. I stood and streched. alright. a job had to be done. let's make some magic. I waited impatiently for the familiar rustling and heavy foot falls. the harsh cough that signaled the already too apparent presence of my employer. all came as described above. but what I didn't describe and what I didn't expect was the feeling of your head being assaulted by a shovel, the brief sharp pain, and the complete blackness.

this was not good.

especially for me.

The End

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