Apr. 3rd, 2008

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It's struggling to rain here, which puts us up on most of the country where snow is still falling like it's forgotten how to stop. But it gives the mornings these queer glowing grey casts that make me sort of sleepy and confused.

Driving out of the carport this morning, a little later than normal since I was at work late last night, I paused backing out as this full grown coyote walks into the parking space next to my car, and just looks at me, face tired and a little sad. I wanted to stop, and comfort him, offer him food or rest or whatever his poor coyote heart wanted, find out what drove him down into our carport at 9:30 in the morning.

It was so strange, surreal like a movie. He stood there like a dog, just watching me. And even though I know he's going to go eat someone's cat – which is what you do when you're a coyote and the neighborhood is full of snacks for the taking – I still wanted to hold onto him, cry against him. He looked how I felt, raggedy and shedding and a little lost.

I need a new book to get lost in. I've got all this great non-fiction to read, but I need someone else's story, someone else's words. Recs anyone?

Or maybe my own stories. I need to write, find some solace in that, I guess. It's usually there to be found.

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itsallovernow

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