Sunday, May 14, 2006

A squirrel's fall

The squirrel fell out of nowhere. There was a soft wooshing sound, then a thwack like a shoe landing on a hardwood floor, and a shudder that ran through the bench he was sitting on. And there it was, its back plainly broken, its eyes rolled back in its head. Instinctively, he shifted away a little, shocked at the suddenness of what had happened. The squirrel twitched soundlessly a few times, white foam flecking its mouth. Then it just lay there, limp as a rag. He continued to watch it for a few minutes after it stopped moving. When it showed no further signs of life, he concluded that it was dead. He wanted to touch it to make sure but he didn't have the nerve.

He looked up to see where it had fallen from. He hadn't realised that the top of the tree was so far away. The tree towered above him, its green branches outlined against the cloudless blue of the sky. And the sky behind it was even further away. There was an infinity of space hanging perilously over his head and he hadn't even noticed. He felt a little queasy. Whether it was the sight of the dead squirrel or the thought of that tremendous height, he didn't know.

Such a long way to fall, he thought. No wonder God doesn't move around much.

Then he went back to his book.


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7 comments:

Heh Heh said...

mmmm.. i want me some dead squirrel.

Falstaff said...

heh: It's not great, actually. With a little ketchup it tastes exactly like dead rat

drifting leaf said...

some real dark morbid phase you seem to be in...
are you in love??
:)

Falstaff said...

leaf: no, but I find it extremely amusing that you would draw that conclusion from my being morbid.

drifting leaf said...

its that poem on holi that triggered this association...remember?

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