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Mr. Writer and I snuggled on the back porch, feeling the breeze of an oncoming thunderstorm. The wind blew heavily. Trees bent in submission. We shut our eyes and enjoyed the ambience.
A sliding glass door opened. Our peace disturbed, our eyelids fluttered open to spot our neighbor crossing his yard, a can of spray in his hand.
He approached a rickety shed in his backyard. Curious, our eyes followed his motion, wondering and waiting.
And still the wind blew.
Our neighbor grabbed the shed door, and with a jerk, threw it open, stepping back immediately. The wind caught the door and compounded his pull, thrashing against one side of the shed. He seemed bothered by something. We assumed wasps.
Grabbing his can of spray, he held it upright and squirted. The wind captured the liquid and delivered it away from our neighbor's intended destination, away from the shed, carrying it instead into his EYE.
The fool stepped back, grabbing his face. He winced and his balance faltered. Staggering he ambled back toward the sliding glass door.
Mr. Writer sat, worrying for a few moments about the general state of humanity. We then closed our eyes as the water fell from the clouds above.
The End.
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