May 2nd, 1995

Youth

@elibrody

@DrCurlytek

@v21


There was a small depression under the back fence, where foxes would come through. We widened it and deepened it, so we could squirm through ourselves, though it wasn’t ever particularly practical. We got away with it for a while, because the line of fir trees covered us. Or you could jump up onto the compost heap, and climb over the fence, and get into a tiny patch of disused land, covered in nettles and rubbish, round the side of the theatre, and then through and onto the green.


Shared from v21 using Embeddlr

@fonograph

@KommanderKlobb

@nachimir

These pink things were not like the others. They were smaller and didn't wear clothes. We'd been ready to accept them as our own, but one day mother took us out to hunt, and they stayed behind. By our return they'd gone, the smell of other, bigger pink things lingering around the den. It had been a good place, but it wasn't long before we moved.

@tigershungry

@mink_ette