Michael Malone - Weebly

the Lord is no longer perswaded we should continue in
this toilsome Journie, I judge from the bloodie Blistering
of my great Toe. Some ale from the Hogshead, good
Agatha, here be our Home!" The star saw three
hundred years ago the founding by the Rampage of
Dingley Falls. And farther stars saw flood across
America, and farther still saw ice.
"What do You care?" asked Ramona, looking up at
the star-bright sky. "You or Your Son either?"
Much closer, off beyond the marshlands, a quick
flick of light spiraled down to Bredforet Pond. Falling
stars are much more haphazard, thought the old
woman. It had to be methodical man. But why, she
wondered, should flying saucers be so persistently
fascinated with a Connecticut marsh? Maybe the idea
of UFOs was nonsense after all. Her eyes were still as
good as a hawk's. If only she had her legs and her wind
back. She would find out. Perhaps it was smugglers.
From Canada. Perhaps somebody was smuggling
something to America. Through her town. Well, she
would send a spy whom life had not yet crippled. She
would borrow young legs. With that plan in mind, Miss