SASQUATCH

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The shadowy figure comes at night. I believe it is the culprit that swipes my apples from the tree and crosses the mud bar to wash them in the pond.

I've been looking for long, course, black hair to prove my theory. Surely he stands against a deck post and rubs his back.

Maybe I should get night-vision goggles, wait for a full moon.

My momma never did tell me the difference between a lie and a tall tale.
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