Nov. 19th, 2011

Liam and Maeve read the sign bolted to the railing. It said:

Native to: Northern Europe
Habitat: Temperate Grasslands
Diet: Souls

"See, I told you," said Liam. "They don't eat people, just their souls."

"I can't see it." Maeve stood on the bottom rail of the fence and craned her neck, looking into the wire mesh enclosure ten feet beyond. There was an open grassy roaming area inside, littered with logs and boulders and a tire hanging from a rope. Liam couldn't imagine a Grim Reaper playing with a tire swing.

Liam walked over to the other side of the viewing area and peered into another part of the cage. "I think I see him," he said. Maeve joined him, and Liam pointed along the edge of the wire fence, where the enclosure sloped down into a area well shaded by the late afternoon sun. There was definitely a dark blotch down there, but it was hard to see.

"I want to get me a picture with the Grim Reaper," said Liam. "I'm gonna throw a rock or something."

"Don't do that," Maeve said, looking around self-consciously. "We'll just wait. Maybe he'll come up where we can see him better."

"We're running out of daylight," said Liam. He looked at his watch. "Shoot, the zoo will close in an hour."

Liam peered down at the thing that might be a Grim Reaper. It was only about twenty feet away. To get there, one would only have to hop the railing and pick your way down a gentle trash-littered slope between some trees and the wire fence. There was nobody around.

"I'm getting a picture," said Liam, climbing the fence and throwing a leg over the top.

"Liam, no!" protested Maeve.

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September 2012

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