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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 10, Number 1, March 2016

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Doug Norris
Barrington, Rhode Island, USA


On the Souls of Wasps

We have a large black garden snake—I call it Hogan—that suns itself on the concrete back steps and slithers into the bramble whenever it’s disturbed. It leaves us an old skin every few months or so. We also get wasps spring through summer. I mostly ignore them, but Lisa swats them with zeal. One day she vanquished so many that I finally asked her: “How many dead wasps would be worth your soul? One? A hundred? The entire species?” That was nearly five years ago. She is still bothered by the question. Every once in a while, though, she presents me with a little wasp carcass, taped to my door. So evidently she is not always bothered.

mouse in the trap another day lost

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