Not counting spaces, it has 2,220 characters. Yes, this is significant. It is special.
Sure, I will paste it here. Maybe you can make comments on it.
Epiphany
When I was walking in the park on my way to the tanning salon, I noticed an attractive female sitting in the grass. I sat down on a bench and watched her. A small squirrel was scampering around. Evidently, she was observing it, because now and then she would jot something down on a memo pad.
The female was fascinating. Her hair was blonde, her skirt was denim, and her blouse was white. She was a very fine specimen. I decided to go talk to her, and inveigle her into dining with me at an Italian restaurant called La Scoiattola (which, incidentally, means “The Squirrel”). I crept up behind her and whispered:
“Hey, you! Hey!” She looked up at me and brushed the hair out of her eyes, smiling.
“Hello, big boy,” she said. “I saw you on that bench. Were you watching me?”
“No,” I said. “I was watching the squirrel.”
“So was I,” she said. “I’m writing an article about why we should save the squirrels. They are gentle creatures.”
“I agree,” I said. “They are precious little things.”
“Yes they are!” she said. “I can’t believe you agree! Would you mind if I asked you some questions, for the article?”
“Go ahead.”
“Alright,” she said, “how often do you feed the squirrels?”
“Everyday. I feed them everyday.”
“What do you feed them?”
“Nuts, bread, licorice. You know, the usual.”
“Licorice? You feed them licorice?”
“Yes. They love it.”
“Really! I didn’t know that!”
“It's an obscure fact.”
“Here,” she said, reaching into her bag. “I actually have some licorice. Would you mind feeding some to the squirrel while I take a picture?”
I didn’t know if the licorice would kill the squirrel, but I decided to do it anyway. I got down on my knees and held out the licorice while the female took out her camera.
“Here, squirrel!” I said. “Come get the food!”
The rodent scurried through the grass and stopped about five inches away from me. It started wrinkling its nose. Then, it sprang at me and sunk its teeth into my hand.
“Fuck!” I said. “What the fuck was that!” It started to run, but before it could get away I got hold of its tail. It tried to bite me again, so I smacked it right in the kisser. It shrieked in anguish.
“Put it down,” the female said. “You’ll hurt the poor thing!”
I smacked the squirrel again, just for good measure. Then the female kicked me in the ribs. I crumpled upon the ground. The squirrel escaped.
“You’re a horrible person!” the female said. “It’s people like you who make this world a fucked up place!” She kicked me again and then went to console the squirrel.
“Poor little guy!” she cooed, picking it up. I whimpered in pain and wondered if you could go any lower than this. And, watching the female cradle the squirrel in her arms like a lover, I knew the answer was no.
4 comments:
Not bad. I was hoping, though, it could get a little worse for the main character. I was curious to see what would have happened next.
It took me awhile to get used to you using terms like "specimen" when refering to women, but I've gotten over it and love your stories.
I'm now going to think of this story everytime I encounter a squirrel, which on this campus, means many reminders.
Charles, this might be my favorite yet.
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