Too often, thoughts
of my various failures return to me, feral as barn cats on the periphery of my
domicile. I can only observe as they
come and go, taunting, raiding, each generation breeding offspring more
intemperate than the last. All night,
they might yowl at nothing. They play
with dust bunnies and allow mice to scuttle through the hollows within my mind. They romp when I wish them quiet. They laze when I try to shoo them away.
—Mitchell Hegman
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