He sensed something approaching. ย It wasn't children. Something much larger, pushing through the corn and approaching the clearing. ย No, it couldn't be children. Children don't come into cornfields in the middle of the night. ย This is sacred ground, sacred ground for those who walk behind the furrows. ย --S. King, "Children of the Corn"
undefined
undefined
undefined
undefined
๏ปฟundefined
undefined
undefined
