by Brad Beals
At the edge of a wood there lay a floor of stone and mortar—solid and square, and level as a millpond. It sat in the sun and the wind, and sometimes the rain and the snow. And in the middle of that stone floor, on a rusting, over-turned pail, there sat a young man.
One day an old man stopped at the floor of stone and mortar and said to the man sitting there, "Good morning, friend. I've just built a home on the other side of the wood. If you cared to join me, we could drink coffee while we sit and stare into the fire?" To this, the young man said nothing, but he nodded in a friendly manner as both a thank-you and a yes, and the two walked to the other side of the wood...
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