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One by Mary Oliver The mosquito is so small it takes almost nothing to ruin it. Each leaf, the same. And the black ant, hurrying. So many lives, so many fortunes! Every morning, I walk softly and with forward glances down to the ponds and through the pinewoods. Mushrooms, even, have but a brief hour before the slug creeps to the feast, before the p
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The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas: A Story (A Wind's Twelve Quarters Story)
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And even though we saw the darkness coming we said nothing and let them dream on.
Julie Otsuka • The Buddha in the Attic
