Fiction | December 01, 1980

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Norman Lavers

The asylum, I believe, is located near the old Hearst Castle.  The story we hear is that when the Hearsts lived there they kept herds of African animals in their parks, but now, we are told, only a few zebras remain for the tourists, the others having died or been given to zoos.  But the hyenas escaped at some early time, this is the rumor, and now live in wild bands in the foothhills.  My window faces inland, but when the wind is right, there is a sound which I am certain is the crashing of the sea mixed with the hight yelps of gulls, and a smell which I fancy is the iodine smell of the seaweed.

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