stories

Reaching into her coat pocket this morning to extract her gloves, she thinks, for the first time, about the plastic sandwich bag she finds…

Snowflakes fall on the ewe’s face and back, pristine against the matted dull-gray tufts which once were white, just like the snow that trickles…

Arguing over property lines. (The horse with the pink house keeps grazing over the line, says the horse with the blue.)