![]() Letting my curiosity better my fear, I moved toward the edge of the dock, which was raised a few feet off the ground. Gradually, step by step, it moved toward me. I thought it was a heron or something at first, but it looked too much like a person. It was looking back into the cornfield, or at least I felt like it was. It moved in chunks: legs, then hips, then torso, shoulders, neck and finally head. ![]() It moved in a sort of jerky gait, like someone dancing "the robot" badly. Pale, with something that looked like a head of straight, black hair. It was the size of a small child and very, very skinny. ![]() The corn was about as high as my shoulder, so about 5' 10".Īs I was watching the bats, I looked down at the edge of the cornfield. It was 2 or 3 a.m., and I was out on the loading dock watching bats fly around the floodlights, because I liked being out in the cool night air. It made work easy the dearth of milk denied us any actual labor, but management wouldn't let us not come to work, so we would show up and mess around all shift. There were a series of days in the summer of '04 or '05 where it was so hot that the milk being delivered to us in trucks would evaporate before we got it. I used to work at a cheese factory on the edge of a cornfield in southwestern Minnesota. ![]() Frank saw a creature he could not identify in a cornfield.
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