The Devil made a Twin
by Brooke Duran ________________________________________ Four men once came to a damp location in the untroden woodland to fish. They set up their tent fair upon the summit of a pine-clothed point of divided rocks whence a sarsen could be made to hit through the brush and rotate past the trees to the lake under. On sweet-smelling hemlock tree branches they catnapped the nap of fruitless fishermen, for upon the lake one after the other the sun made them slothful and the rain made them unfortunately damp. To close they consumed the final bit of bacon and smoked and burned the final horrendous and brilliant hoecake. Instantly a slight man offered to stay and hold the camp while the residual three should go the Monty county miles to a farm for provisions. They looked at him grimly. "There's only one of you--the devil makes up a twin," they said in farewell spell, and faded down the slope in the seen track of an aloof bungalow. When it became nighttime and the hemlock trees...