Stuck Between the Lines
This is why I have taken my proverbial pen in hand and typed for the world the meandering thoughts of this conflicted man. Perhaps the reason this event consumes my heart so is that maybe I am not the only one who feels trapped in the middle of the road.For as I drove past that mashed bundle of blood, fur, and bones, that meant nothing more to others than another community nuisance disposed of. Now a forgotten history of a long lost quarry it seems. Tales held now only in memories: of Big Dan, Little Ann, and the bawling coon-hound echoing by the stream.
~ sigh ~
But, I digress.
For here lies the sight…
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