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How Long?

A family of quail, top knots bobbing, ran across the trail, the last in line making a short, hurried flight to get out of the way. The gravel being crunched beneath my tires as well as the various clanking sounds a bike makes when rumbling over rocks should have been loud enough to drown out the sigh; because of that I knew that it, as well as the sarcastic "thanks a lot" that came after, was for my benefit. I skidded to a quick stop, or as quick as the cantilever brakes on the Ibis are capable of, and swiveled my head in the direction of the rough words. I expected to see a familiar face, or at least an unfamiliar one, but there was nothing. 
"How long?" A question or an accusation, I wasn't sure which, redirected my focus. A pair of yellow eyes reflected the last of the sun, lips pulled back in a grin full of sharp teeth. Coyote sat in a gap, an opening in the chaparral. 
Well I'm about to get UPSET From watchin' my TV Been checkin' out the news Until …

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