Stupid Baby

She watched a fuzzy caterpillar crawl along the edge of the sandbox.

‘Gypsy moth,’ she recalled.

She liked insects. Her mother had a whole collection, all pinned in a box, that she’d had ever since she was a little girl. Each one had the name of the insect beneath it, written in careful black ink, with the date of capture beneath that.

Louise imagined herself as a tiny insect inquisitor. The insects were prisoners who had been executed for crimes against the state.

She giggled at the thought as she reached out, gently stroking the soft fuzz on the caterpillar’s back.

She fished around with one hand in the sandbox until she found a tiny

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