It always happens this time of night, the time when almost everyone has gone to bed, and the last of the porch lights blink out across the lake. It happens when the moon has consumed the sky and has its partner shimmering in the center, and a song starts drifting across the water. It is an old song, some folk melody which was popular long before someone was around to make a recording. The song climbs up out of the water and begins snaking its way to any who might be awake, carried as if on but against the wisps of wind.
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