...

Mags stood on the porch of a two-story house on a small rise. 

It wasn’t her house, but it was somehow familiar. 

The air was heavy with moisture. The atmosphere had the oppressive weight it gets just before a storm. 

As if a ripe fruit is about to burst.

A smooth, blue-green lawn sloped away to the tree line. There was a white, lank fence around the periphery which reminded her of horse farms in Kentucky.

The leaves in the trees rustled with a leavening wind.

Black and violent clouds rapidly approached.  

...

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