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Weekly Contest #364
I sit on the rug in my living room, the same rug that holds my secrets, the ones that were swept under decades ago. I listen to the birds create a barrier around me. Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Blue Jays, American Redstarts all intertwined together like a spider-web. I saw a red fox this morning; he had a dead mole in its mouth, chomping on its lifeless head and then with it hanging out of its mouth he dug a hole, placed his meal into the shallow dirt coffin and buried it, prancing away as if the funeral was over. But it had just begun. But no...
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