The Coyote Story
The farm was in Kentucky. It had been in Wayne's family for a long time. Now it was in the bank's hands, or it would be next month. The notice had come in the mail, typed on official paper with the bank's logo at the top. Wayne had read it three times. Then he put it in a drawer and went back to work. Wayne was fifty-four. He had worked this land for most of his life. His hands were rough and...
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