Pondering this serious question, I huddle over a bag of pistachios, cracking and cramming them into my mouth. Never before one to go for nuts, I feel for a newly-grown fluffy tail. Fantasizing about living in the UK, I wonder: do they have good trees there for running up when a neighborhood cat scouts me? I reflect on a dog recently lunging at me, a casting director's critique that I hunch over too much, my bright eyes. It doesn't take a rocket scientist. Pass the acorns.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Question: Am I Turning Into a Squirrel?
Pondering this serious question, I huddle over a bag of pistachios, cracking and cramming them into my mouth. Never before one to go for nuts, I feel for a newly-grown fluffy tail. Fantasizing about living in the UK, I wonder: do they have good trees there for running up when a neighborhood cat scouts me? I reflect on a dog recently lunging at me, a casting director's critique that I hunch over too much, my bright eyes. It doesn't take a rocket scientist. Pass the acorns.
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