Nothing Left to Feed
Frank Kowalski sat outside his trailer every evening with a beer and watched the raccoons come out of the woods. There were three of them now—big ones, the kind that live in trailer parks and learn to open trash cans and don't care if you're watching. He used to have a cat. A calico. She died two years ago and he didn't tell anyone. Not Dave. Not the daughter. He just dug a hole behind the...
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