Friday, September 4, 2009
Dear Squirel Who Lives in the Fourth Tree by the Third Lampost from the Bottom of the Hill
What do you have to prove to me or anyone else for that matter? I couldn't help but ask myself this as I was walked up the steps of Old Main the other day and you came rocketing toward me from your tree, stopping on the curb along side me; your eyes intently locked on me, mine on you. Did you come down from your tree to challenge me for trespassing on your territory? Does it make you feel tough to watch me pass on by and do nothing? Did you feel like the bigger man in this situation? Well you shouldn't. I should for not kicking you halfway across the hill when you probably deserved it. You just remember that.