03-22-2011, 05:36 PM
Everyone on the first, third and eighth row, on a tuesday night. It was a dark and stormy night, with a full moon hidden behind angry clouds. A lone beagle types away in the distance. A light warming a small patch of grass beneath his window. He watches briefly as islanders file one by one past his home, to whatever new lands they are off to explore and inhabit. He wonders as they walk by in the dark, dark night, "What color eyes do they have, and why are they walking in the damn rain?"