Fawn (an excerpt)
by Myfanwy Collins
When I went to the mailbox today, I heard a creaking in the woods. It might have been a fawn watching me as that is their noise of distress—a tree moving in the wind sound. If she had shown herself, I might have chased her like a cat would chase another animal—I wanted to be close to her, to play, maybe even to consume her in some way, to find her innocence within myself. Come here fawn and be my pet. I will feed you slivered almonds and cranberries. I’ll stroke your nubby horns while we sit by the fire. And as you grow, I will tell you stories about the woods. The way the leaves become heavy and fall. The way trees fight each other for sunlight and shade the ferns. How the snow melts and leaves behind vernal ponds for peepers and salamanders.
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