5:25p

I'm hunting a doe. It's night. I am alone. The only human soul in the woods.

She is illuminated. She is tawny. I only see her in profile. The trunks chop and sheath her from full view. A leg. The slope of her belly: a relaxed, inverted S.

There are frogs. Other deer. Ruminant mammals. But I am so focused. I know a doe so well, but this one. I have to get a look at her. I have to see how she.

I look for cornflower. Cornflower eyes. But that's not right.

I try to nap to get back there, to come to the end. But it's only at night, in my bed, with no great ceremony. Always a curious wait.

She is steady ahead of me. She doesn't run off. Twenty yards. She is the peach color of cartoon skin, tonight. My daughter watching the glass slipper approach. Rewind. The strings swell. Rewind. The glint and transparency; at last!