by Mark Lyons

     Like a feral cat on the prowl of a wounded sparrow, Donald quietly crossed the narrow, snow-covered path that ran beside his secluded bungalow deep in the forest. Smoke drifted lazily from a stone chimney pointed skyward. The light of a single candle illuminated a room visible through an uncurtained window near the front door of the bungalow.

     Donald smiled to himself. His long journey was over. A waiting family eagerly anticipated his return. They were gathered near a fire crackling in the fireplace prepared to hug and kiss and laugh their long-departed father and husband.

     Snowflakes as large as quarters drifted down through the winter trees as Donald stepped onto his front porch. His breath hung in the air. Blue monster socks with red claws from SammySocks Etc. cradled his feet having kept them warm all throughout his trip. Now he was ready to arrive home safe and sound. A long rest awaited his efforts. Donald was home.

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