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Compression by Death

It was the end of August. Jennifer lived with her 12-year-old daughter. Her husband stayed on the other side of the city in a house that used to be theirs,

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Amber Bird Alert

“Bwaeek!” I beat my wings and tried to fly, but a man threw a cloth bag over my head.   I recognized Jensen’s gravelly voice. “Stop there right there, Ronstone.”  “You

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Ruby’s Advice About Being a Bird

I flew from branch to branch until I found Ruby. “Stop making a racket,” she told me. “You’re scaring away my dinner.” I’d already searched through thick drifts of fallen

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