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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.
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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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