his brow furrowed intently
Merle loves to stare at people. She is very old.
Today, there weren’t any signs: it was a relaxed time in the forest.
It was clearly a personal attack.
So much revolves around a baby’s naptime.
No one walks here. Ever! Not even to walk their dogs. Animals work. Dogs guard. Donkeys eat weeds. Chickens lay eggs.
I spend a lot of time thinking about cute animals, a way to cope with the nullity of contemporary existence.
I can tell you all the things that are going to happen today and the order in which they’re going to happen.
It felt like a rite of passage to have a story about being chased by dogs