I would like you to note the time... and now read this:
The Story of a Squirrel
Susan plopped down onto the couch next to Margot and let out a long sigh. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I don’t know. How about you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ever finish reading that book that I lent you?”
“Not yet.”
“Jesus. What have you been doing with it- using it for a coaster? I lent you that, like, six months ago!”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Stuff that I do.”
Margot shook her head. “Did I ever tell you the story about the squirrel?”
“No.”
Margot stood up from the couch and sat down on the coffee table in front of Susan, leaning in she raised her hands up as she prepared the first words of her story; the story of a squirrel.
Once upon a time in a forest far, far away lived a little squirrel named Myles. He lived in a great old oak tree with his mother and father and his four older brothers and sisters: Martin, Maureen, Mortimer and Mona (but they don’t come into this story much). Day in and day out they would play together in the familiar branches and on the soft forest floors. Myles was small for his age but he tried so hard to keep up with his brothers and sisters anyhow, matching their jumps and speed as they scrambled from limb to limb. He had once seen his oldest brother, Martin, make a five foot leap from their oak to the one next to it without even flinching. Every now and then Myles would climb to that branch when no one else was around and stare at the distance between the two. Myles wished that he would be big enough and brave enough, like his brother Martin, and be able to make the jump but he never dared try. Myles was afraid.
It was a clear day when Myles was climbing on the great branches of the old oak tree, when he came to the end of that very same branch. A few feet in the distance he could see how the other branch seemed to almost reach out to him, as if it were calling to him to try to jump. Myles was still unsure and as he sat there, he felt himself growing sad and his little squirrel lips began to quiver. Little Myles started to cry. He blubbered to himself for a whole minute before taking his squirrel paw and wiping his little squirrel eyes. He would not cry again. Myles stood up at the edge of that branch and thought about when he watched Martin make the jump. He remembered how Martin had been running very fast up the trunk of the tree and out onto this branch, always sure-footed. It was all so simple. He just had to be going fast enough. Myles was going to try.
Though Myles was a brave squirrel, he was also a careful squirrel. He went to other branches and looked at the distance from different angles. He did a few practice jumps from the shorter branches. Eventually he felt that he was ready. Myles scurried to the trunk of the tree and took a deep breath. In his little squirrel brain he counted to three and then took off running as fast as he could. For a split second he wanted to stop because he realized that he had wanted Martin, Maureen, Mortimer and Mona to see him and all his glory but he kept running. It was now or never. When he got to the end, he leapt out into the air with all his might, reaching for the opposite branch. His little squirrel paws gripped at the bark and his little nails ripped little lines in the wood but Myles hadn't jumped quite far enough. Myles felt himself falling, and down he went all the way to the ground. Myles landed on a rock and his little squirrel body flattened against the stone surface never to attempt any more leaps between the limbs of the oak trees ever again.
Margot sat motionless as the last words set into Susan’s ears with a queer smile on his face. Susan even noticed that he had been holding his breath.
“What?!?” Susan cried. “You killed him!”
“I know.” She shrugged.
“But why?”
Margot just shrugged again and stood up. She walked toward the hallway.
“Wait a minute,” Susan cried after her. “Why the hell did you tell me that story anyway?”
Margot stopped in the doorway and turned around. She smiled a big happy smile, shrugged one more time and disappeared down the hall leaving Susan alone on the couch with her thoughts.
The Story of a Squirrel
Susan plopped down onto the couch next to Margot and let out a long sigh. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I don’t know. How about you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ever finish reading that book that I lent you?”
“Not yet.”
“Jesus. What have you been doing with it- using it for a coaster? I lent you that, like, six months ago!”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Stuff that I do.”
Margot shook her head. “Did I ever tell you the story about the squirrel?”
“No.”
Margot stood up from the couch and sat down on the coffee table in front of Susan, leaning in she raised her hands up as she prepared the first words of her story; the story of a squirrel.
Once upon a time in a forest far, far away lived a little squirrel named Myles. He lived in a great old oak tree with his mother and father and his four older brothers and sisters: Martin, Maureen, Mortimer and Mona (but they don’t come into this story much). Day in and day out they would play together in the familiar branches and on the soft forest floors. Myles was small for his age but he tried so hard to keep up with his brothers and sisters anyhow, matching their jumps and speed as they scrambled from limb to limb. He had once seen his oldest brother, Martin, make a five foot leap from their oak to the one next to it without even flinching. Every now and then Myles would climb to that branch when no one else was around and stare at the distance between the two. Myles wished that he would be big enough and brave enough, like his brother Martin, and be able to make the jump but he never dared try. Myles was afraid.
It was a clear day when Myles was climbing on the great branches of the old oak tree, when he came to the end of that very same branch. A few feet in the distance he could see how the other branch seemed to almost reach out to him, as if it were calling to him to try to jump. Myles was still unsure and as he sat there, he felt himself growing sad and his little squirrel lips began to quiver. Little Myles started to cry. He blubbered to himself for a whole minute before taking his squirrel paw and wiping his little squirrel eyes. He would not cry again. Myles stood up at the edge of that branch and thought about when he watched Martin make the jump. He remembered how Martin had been running very fast up the trunk of the tree and out onto this branch, always sure-footed. It was all so simple. He just had to be going fast enough. Myles was going to try.
Though Myles was a brave squirrel, he was also a careful squirrel. He went to other branches and looked at the distance from different angles. He did a few practice jumps from the shorter branches. Eventually he felt that he was ready. Myles scurried to the trunk of the tree and took a deep breath. In his little squirrel brain he counted to three and then took off running as fast as he could. For a split second he wanted to stop because he realized that he had wanted Martin, Maureen, Mortimer and Mona to see him and all his glory but he kept running. It was now or never. When he got to the end, he leapt out into the air with all his might, reaching for the opposite branch. His little squirrel paws gripped at the bark and his little nails ripped little lines in the wood but Myles hadn't jumped quite far enough. Myles felt himself falling, and down he went all the way to the ground. Myles landed on a rock and his little squirrel body flattened against the stone surface never to attempt any more leaps between the limbs of the oak trees ever again.
Margot sat motionless as the last words set into Susan’s ears with a queer smile on his face. Susan even noticed that he had been holding his breath.
“What?!?” Susan cried. “You killed him!”
“I know.” She shrugged.
“But why?”
Margot just shrugged again and stood up. She walked toward the hallway.
“Wait a minute,” Susan cried after her. “Why the hell did you tell me that story anyway?”
Margot stopped in the doorway and turned around. She smiled a big happy smile, shrugged one more time and disappeared down the hall leaving Susan alone on the couch with her thoughts.
1 Comments:
Best story ever.
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