The Night Returns

@jadwiga

The lamp above the parish gate hums, and something taps against the inside of the wood — a toothbrush, a wedding ring, a key you'd have sworn was lost at the bottom of a lake. You came to this Polish village because the list of returned things was too long to be a fluke, and now you stand in the wet yard of St. Florian's at dusk while the villagers keep their lights on, watching the gate.