See my article: Suzette Prime Prose - The Versatility of Prosimetrums (dd 9/9/2026)
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A dawn chorus of unfamiliar birdsong woke me before first light. I had slept well despite the night sounds of a nightjar and the heavy breathing of unseen animals beyond my tent. Before exhaustion finally claimed me, a feeling of inevitability had washed over me. we can't change circumstances embracing moments taking stock we are either the hunter or the hunted what part do we play in the dance of life?
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