Brown Bird XXX

The garden has ants. The garden always has ants, except generally they leave me alone. The pacing of bites picked up, and the wind pushed harder through the trees. I swiped the ants from my feet and thighs, wiping the sweat from my brow. I paced, thinking if I keep moving it will be more difficult for them to scale my legs. I was right. I found several small brown feathers in my forced movement around the garden…

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Brown Bird XXXI

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Brown Bird XXIX