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Sneak Peek

Their Paws are like Tiny Hands

Their Paws - JPG - Cover.jpg

Chicken ran away into the forest.

In the forest, there was an otter.

A sweet, moving short story.

17 pages • digital PDF


I sleep high in my tree in the warm late afternoon sun. I hear you in the water with your sisters. There is a warm feeling inside me like my egg.



We chase berries in the clear cool water. I am laughing with my sisters. In the gentle earth beyond the ferns our mother is resting.



I feel the strong force of the tree breathing beneath my feet. The sun warms me like a rough tongue and I close my eyes.   "

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