Coming soon . . .

She saw a light pass through the windows of her house, The farm sat far back from the country road and the few cars that passed would be the postal delivery person - at eleven am on the dot every weekday, or the grocery delivery van - she bought her groceries in town, or the veterinarian - past birthing season, and he would not have come all the way from the University at night. There it was again. It had a pinkish cast to it when it hit the front windows and yellowish-green going out the back windows.