Outside was a bit of a different story; outside were memories of wandering the loamy, pine-studded land upon which the trailer was anchored, poking about through the wildflowers and weeds to discover the great wonders of what seemed to her the wilderness. Beetles and butterflies and toads and tree frogs, and sparkly slivers of pyrite that she collected and saved in a Pringles canister. Outdoor playtime, for little Juniper, had been a suspension of all the bad.
