Tale #57: The Thaw

Every March, after the thaw, the river that runs through the valley bursts its banks.

And in the fields to the north the dead bodies emerge from beneath the snow: rodents, rabbits, hares; pigeons, sparrows, starlings, crows; a fox, a cat, a dog; a drunk, a suicide; an unidentified child.



1. Written on February 15th, 2018
2. I should have timed this better so it was published in March rather than in June
3. But I did not
4. And it’s too late now


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