short stories

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By the Streamside
riverside a far away fellow riverside a far away fellow

By the Streamside

As I walk the hills and follow a little path that recedes to the point where two paths blur and join, I hear the sound of a man’s voice. His voice is urgent as he calls his dog but yet he is trying not to be seen. He has white bushy eyebrows which give him a severe owlish gaze.

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