Diurnal

Afternoon, late spring. A neighbor’s overgrown garden sits in the shade, chimney covered with a tarp for months, chipped bricks piled at its base. From the weeds a coyote escapes, stepping gingerly between the plants and debris. The animal thin—it moves slowly, pauses to turn and look at us with a sense of disorientation behind its eyes. The sun shines off its pale grey coat as it returns to the shadows.

No. 088