The evening
breeze is chilly and the wind chimes play a song. The sun is going down.
Another day passes. I have no idea how many more evenings are in the jar before
it empties; hopefully many. I hear the lonesome coyote and his howl of what
sounds like loneliness. There are many howls which go unnoticed until one day
the coyote in our example, shows up at the front door and there is no longer a
chance to escape or ignore him.
