Under blue skies, the live oaks were just trees — hearty and expansive trees.
But in the feeble light of waning days or the frequent forays of morning fog, the rangy and sinuous moss-draped limbs became a Lovecraftian monster, head stuck into the damp loam in an attempted retreat to the underworld.
And if one stood still enough, those limbs just might start to writhe.
People die from skin cancer —
freaking out about nuclear power plants —
but not freaked out about the sun
enough to slather on some sunscreen.
A plane crashes,
and many decide it’s safer to drive —
clearly, they must be among the 93%
who are better than average drivers.
Mosquitos kill five orders of magnitude
more people than sharks,
and yet “PROBOSCIS” is not a movie
that will give “JAWS” a run for its money.
People pride themselves on living in the real world,