The way the deer gathered at dusk. The way the kids lay still on the trampoline, counting stars. The way the tall, thin pines stood so close their roots touched. The crisp night snows of November.

The Have-A-Hart traps for field mice seeking shelter in our home. 

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(SELECTED FOR THE 2023 BEST MICROFICTION ANTHOLOGY/FINALIST IN SMOKELONG QUARTERLY SUMMER MICRO CONTEST)