They come to see me.
They flock in pairs, in groups and in packs, all to the same place, just to see 'lil ole me.
They never see me, of course.
They might catch glimpses, if I feel like it. A whisper of a vision, in the corner of their eye, a shape within that glimmer of sunshine that radiates across the open plain.
But to most, I am no more than an illusion.
And that's the way it will stay.
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