Vernal

Coyote, his laces loose and looping, wearing a sweatshirt pushed up around his elbows and a pair of sunglasses, dropped from the sagging porch to the ground, sinking just about an inch in the crusty-topped snow;  It’d been melting the last few days. Fast. Water pooled in the dips in the sidewalks, and reservoirs hugged the corners of curbs.

He sipped his coffee, and spit out a half-mouthful, it’d gone cold.

Stretching as wide as he could to soak in the late morning sun, Coyote coughed and started stomping through the backyard, digging out a winter’s worth of dog shit.

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