WE ARE IMPAIRED BY OUR DREAMS

It’s 5:30 in the morning and I’m at the desk after staring out the window from bed into the dark glen for over an hour, up the hill where coyotes roam. In half-sleep an hour prior to that I heard them proclaiming, likely death. They aren’t so different than humans. Herd mentality. Out for blood. Diseased and strutting through the night. I’ve read that they are emotional creatures as well. I wonder when one of their own dies if they would have the depth to mourn the loss with an emoji.

Friday mor...