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2015-02-11 - 3:46 p.m. Sitting on this couch, trying to figure out if I had the energy to attack chapter something of this novel, and I think I hear geese. Yes: that honk, honk, from overhead. So I slowly roll the sliding-glass door, creak, creak, over the dirt and pine needles. And I angle my head out that way, ear-first. And I'm convinced. Honk, honk. Again: honk, honk. But, no. It's the neighbor's little dog, a toy dog, a little half-schnauzer. And good for that little dog, I guess, but that little dog is not geese, flying north. 0 comments so far
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