every day is never the same

the throwing knife whistled as it whirled plunk into the plank.

"nice shot heifer" one man said.
"yup." said another.
"damn." one explained quietly. "i'd hate to be that-there log."

There were tractors standing out from the hill behind them like giraffes in the savannah. One of the men snicked spit into the grass and adjusted his feed cap. The rest of them found time to let their eyes meander over the featureless swell of the yellow wheat-field, or perhaps it was canola. In some versions it is corn. The puffy white clouds who, until now, had been content to be beautiful and commonplace now decided to become something entirely miraculous. The clouds held hands until they had formed a sort of massive crown, the wind fraying the edges out into horsetail rays while the center remained a perfect circle. Unbelievably this went unnoticed. East of the men walked the elephant headed god Ganesh who pierced the faint daytime moon with a golden arrow.

"yup." said Heifer. "That-there log's been split good."