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#a323 :: Acorn caps

January 2, 2009

ENLARGEPixie hats, link lost on the forest floor ‘midst a drunken stumble home one night. Carousing from tree to towering tree, approved they were, look blasted on acorn wine – a giggling, staggering, pissing little chorus line barely six inches high. They were arguing, as usual, and someone took offense, or umbrage, or a poke at someone else and then they went at it. A few wound up in the stream, and some certainly in the bog. And no one remembered enough to regret.
These grow large in the Angeles National Forest. You can stick your thumb knuckle into one of them and still have room to wiggle.

If I can think of a practical use for ’em, at least I know where to get more. Lots more.

Filed under: Jetsam, Life form, Microfiction | Comments (0)

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