The Message

The squiggles had to be an alien message. He looked again, hoping to see some overall pattern… For weeks, he’d found these squiggles that no human hands could have made on his papers. He left, frustrated.

A spider fell into his ink, then walked around the blank sheets of paper.

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This entry was written by shutz , posted on Sunday August 09 2009at 11:08 am , filed under Story and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink . Post a comment below or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

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