In days past, I had once witnessed a squirrel sprawled out, dead on the pavement, as if he had been convinced the asphalt had been water all along, and had only discovered the cruel joke that was played on him after it was much too late. The universe had left me to ponder the life he, or she for all I could have known (although I did know better), had once had.
All the information I knew for sure was that his name was Quiggley. I could not, for the life of me, or the death of the squirrel, tell you why that was his name, but an inner peace came over me like high tide slowly engulfing the shoreline of a moonlit beach that Quiggley was his name. This revelation aside, the rest was left to my imagination. Interesting choice you have made, Universe, interesting choice indeed.
Let us make…
View original post 272 more words