Two Weirdoes, a Shovel, and Lots of Open Land

John Collins came upon the open field at precisely twelve midnight, not a minute before and not a minute after, but precisely at midnight, and when I say precisely, I do mean precisely. He’d looked at his watch after wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his white turtleneck. John was thirsty and he was tired, and most of all he was pissed off. Another fight with Connie meant another voyage into the wilderness.

John Collins came upon the open field at precisely twelve midnight, not a minute before and not a minute after, but precisely at midnight, and well, you get the point. Sitting in the middle of the field were two strange looking men, one very tall and the other—well he was, well, pretty normal. It’s hard to describe what the other one looked like because well, he kind of looked like everyone else, and trying to describe everyone else would be quite a chore, considering I’m not quite sure who everyone else is.

I bet you thought I was going to begin this paragraph with ‘John Collins came upon the open field… blah, blah, fucking blah.’ You were wrong. And so was John in thinking that he came upon the open field at twelve midnight exactly. He had forgotten his watch had stopped for but a moment last Thursday during his weekly card game with the guys. And so, he had actually entered the field at 12:00:01 and not 12:00:00 as previously thought.

John Collins came upon the field at 12:00:01 and that is the last time I am going to say that. He saw the two weirdoes sitting there in the middle of all this open land and all they had with them, or so it seemed from as far away as he was, was a large metal shovel.