The Lost Hunting Knife by John McCluskey With so many people in the Forest Preserve on a Saturday in the Fall, how come nobody else found the hunting knife? The fat-handled weight. The soft pouch where easy sleeps the danger, one snap at the top of the sheath to unleash and oh! how the blade thinning to a purposeful edge changed everything! Could I really have left it on the forest floor to glimmer deep into dead leaves?
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