unphotographable 2

I remember when I was a young boy and I just moved into the 109th Drive the house had a infestation of raccoons. The mother became road kill, the children were killed by my next door neighbor, but the father was the most crafty of them all. One evening my mother’s friend came over to patch up the hole that the raccoons dug up. Instead the raccoon jumped out the hole and ran towards me when my mother’s friend threw his pocket knife at the raccoon killing it. The next morning i ran to take out the garbage because it smelled like a slaughterhouse.

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