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The weapon lay on the ground at my feet. Beneath the wounds. Do I enter, am I being watched, is there someone out here? Or maybe someone inside ready to prevent me from trespassing?
The lighting of the camper simulated the useful potential the object once possessed. The warm glow of green light radiating from the windows brought life to the obsolete trailer. For four hours, neighbors and travelers on Route 25 would see an aberration that could be explored in the woods of Stamfordville, NY.