John W. Evans Only a handful made it to the United States, some as far as Detroit. One killed a Sunday school teacher walking students through the Oregon woods. However many became rumor, stuck on power lines near missile silos, cut into tarps by farmers or chased across the desert with rifles and pickups, only… More

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John W. Evans Every stick-figure boy stuck under pews smiles, from low angles, looking up. Kind of evil, eagerly lost or found, the struck boy slinks past the sacristy, under the glass, out of earshot of the choir. Wrapped in pale silk, shook foil flowers the cross, iridescent, lemon-oiled. The boy shrugs heaven and sky,… More