“It was a big rock, about knee high, on the edge of the cleared area, near the oak tree. It had been shaped into some kind of yard art. If I came back during daylight, I’d probably see that it had been carved into an American eagle holding the severed head of a terrorist or something. Grandma wasn’t exactly a patriot, but she dearly loved having an excuse to hate a whole group of people.”
―
T. Kingfisher,
The Twisted Ones