With a broken-down oven, in a hotel kitchen, on an uninhabited island
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Driving through the mist after delivering packages, I come upon a family of deer walking down the middle of the street. I cut my lights and engine and coast behind them awhile. They are cruising the neighborhood, nibbling the frosty lawns, looking for nasturtiums. I glide behind them around a corner and down another street, the only sound the crunching of newly formed ice beneath my tires, until they disappear onto the dark, soggy soccer fields of the middle school. I tell you I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been happier.
David Denny