Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep
Merry Much Happens
Catherine Nicolai
I was a child of the universe, the same as the pine trees and the deer bedded down in their dens. I stopped on the edge of the Douglas firs, turned off the engine, and reached for my thermos. When I twisted off the top, steam, sweet and spicy, rose up and rippled in the air. I poured my hot cider, spiced with cinnamon, into the thermos mug and wrapped my hands around it.
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