The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Coyotes and Roses
I was a man and when the time came for my shot, I pulled the trigger and painted the prairie with coyote blood. Glenn was right. Being eaten while alive was unacceptable; the coyotes had to die.
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A.G. Posey
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Lauren Cerand shares her notes on living, usually postmarked from New York, at LuxLotus.com.