The little cigar box

  The little cigar box made its way through the remnant.  Inside was one scrap of paper that had written upon it the decided upon word.

  "Everybody's where they need to be," one girl had peeked, then looked at the ground as she passed the box.

             Lifework

    The Pastor that had come from another state stood still.  The young Officer's wives stayed sitting at a picnic table.  One Officer had stayed, but was standing near a middle-aged tree occupied by wood-boring beetles.  He'd be picked up.  "Like a vice," he described the state of his headache and the cranking sound of the beetle inside the tree.  "Oh, give this to them." He took a rolled up refrigerator To Do pad from his pants pocket.  And a hug.  "Will do.  Take care of you." 

     "Will do." 

     "It's like this every year," a Forest person was explaining to campers about the change of season. 

     "Yeah, but do you really know?" 

     A chuckle.  "Been doing this a long time.  In Montana."