Ted advanced towards the grapevine tepee between the tool shed and the corner of the barn. He was struck with the hair raising sensation something lurked behind those vines. He could’ve sworn that the vines had moved and shifted without the benefit of any breeze. It was silly. Still, the only way he would relax was removing the blasted vines.
He glanced at his dog, Hap, who stared, fascinated, at the vines.
“Okay,” he told the dog, “let’s get this over with.”
The hedge clippers had barely completed the first cut when vines shook violently, as if caught in the middle of a tempest, causing both Ted an Hap to leap backwards, as fourteen fuzzy ducklings burst from the interior of the viney shelter and scrambled towards the barn.
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