Tuesday, February 8, 2011

The hand of God rushed past...


Lloyd was scheduled to go to the road this morning. It had been decided among the squirrels some time before, possibly Tuesday. The time all ran together when you were a squirrel. There were legends, of the time before the road, and building and people feeding them bread and potato chips. When squirrels went to the "woods" to die. It'd still been scheduled, of course. Squirrel-society was much tidier that way. But the road, and its metal machines served that function now. So, Lloyd made his goodbyes. He told Matilda she was a good wife, then stepped out into traffic.
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