image from Hope at pinterest.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The cracked acorn gleams in Simon’s paws~ not prophecy, just refraction through last week’s stolen garden ornament. He squints at blurry futures: pecan groves drowned in floods, three-legged dogs chasing slower squirrels, a blizzard hidding every buried nut. Disaster! Simon panics, scrambles up bark, forgets the vision, spots a hazelnut. Destiny tastes better salted.
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