Ficly

Not a firefly

Tucker stood in his fields as the sun was about to disappear on the horizon. After a long day of harvesting, he was tired but felt great. His corn crop once sold would bring in a lot of money this year. Tucker couldn’t ask for a better harvest.

He wiped the sweat and dirt from his brow with a handkerchief as he breathed a sigh of relief. “Honey! Dinner’s ready?” Brenda called out from the house.

“Be there in a minute!” Tucker called back.

“Make sure to wash up before you come in!” Tucker smiled as he looked at his disgusting dirty hands. He laughed.

As the sun finally set and the only lights came from the barn and the house, Tucker picked up his tools. As he walked up the hill to the barn, he looked out over his crop and saw a light glowing in the middle of the field. He thought maybe it was his cell phone, but he felt it in his pocket.

He set the tools down and walked back to the field. He walked towards the glow, but as soon as he got close, the glow had moved and darted towards his house.

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