A boy walks over an ancient stone terrace, over fertile brown earth. Olive trees sit in their magnificent, twisted shapes, their limbs resting in the cool mountain breeze. In the dusky light, a house. Short and low to the ground, it’s walls made of strong, white stone. No light shines from behind it’s windows. The garden overrun by the grasses of these hills. The boys stands before its porch, remembering. A cat mews nearby, waiting for its patron to return. No food has come from the door for weeks. A rustle in the grasses below makes the boy turn, meeting two brilliant eyes reflecting the sunset. A dark red fur defines the creature. It’s pointed snout and sharp ears, instantly alert. The boy looks  into her eyes. The fox completely still in the twilight, only her tail twitching. A moment beyond time. As darkness falls, the fox breaks away—silent leap into the night. The boy stops, thinking as the sounds of evening commences. He starts back over the terraces, through olive groves—into lights of home.


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