A lanky man sitting cross-legged in the grass. In his lap, a teddy bear. Teddy is holding a box of Cracker Jack. And we all know the unopened box holds caramel corn and a toy. These nested things — the toy and the treat in the box in the grasp of the bear in the lap of the man at the edge of the wood; an American matryoshka — stirred something in me; the inkling of a story that isn’t clear.
There’s a story here that wants to be told.