I’m sitting in the snow of my desk with the desktop picture I have up. I don’t usually like cute stuff, but this is national geographic quality. It’s a very cute, furry, snow-dusted squirrel looking like he just got caught red-handed with a nut. His tail is at winter’s maximum fluffiness. He looks so perfect, quizzical look on his wiffling nose. The snow looks so fresh and crunchable.
I am already touching the little wiggly nose gently and saying pat pat to the little furry head and marveling at the little scratchy hands with grippy furred claws on his simple dinner.
Have a seat!
I say, and sit down on the cold dry packed iciness and wonder if I’ve stuffed my pants far enough into my rubber boots so they don’t get snow in my ankles when I stretch out my legs.
Have a seat!,
I think to him, and he pounces like a poof of powder onto the lap of my old blue wool coat (how small my hands are), looking this way and that, nibble, looking.
What a wonderful tail, I think, and I’m hearing
crunching behind me, which,
Sadly,
Turns out to be the printer,
And away I go
Back to the figures
And Numbers
And words
And
How I wish I could at least
see my breath in front of me, as it leaves.
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