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I wake to the screeching of ravens. The day throbs with their harsh calls, “What is your bitch?” I asked the unkindness of the common raven. The treachery replied, “The bear wouldn’t share.” The black cylinder of the trash can, knocked on its side, spewing plastic wrap, a baggie of slimy yellow onions, moldy leftover spaghetti, and a trail of candy wrappers, pizza boxes, and to-go containers up the hill.
