Lifted / Joshua Alan Sturgill
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“Oh, a very long time. I am waiting for this terrible storm to end and the thick veil of clouds to lift.”
“But this is the middle of Summer,” I said, looking up at the sky. “There haven’t been any storms since Spring. The weather is clear and warm.”
“Tell me: can you see my shadow?”
I laughed. “Of course. It’s easy to see shadows at this time of day.”
“If the veil were truly lifted, there would be no shadows.”
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