(no subject)
Sep. 27th, 2002 01:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetListen: I forgot to tell you about the acorns.
They fell from the sky with great force. They had about fifty feet to build up a good speed. I'm telling you, Chicken Little was right. All weekend long we heard them, bouncing off the dining fly, the tent, the station wagons.
Was it Father Oak, reclaiming the forest from the encroaching monkey-people? Was it the squirrels, murderous, their bushy tails full of evil?
I dunno, man. All I know is: those nuts were out for blood.
On our last full day in Maine, as I ate breakfast under the tarp, I thought about how lucky we were that none of us had been hit by them. I went to put something back in the car.
My ponderings of impunity, silent though they were, had awakened the rage of the woods. The tree, or the squirrels, acted almost at once.
Inside their tent, awakened but not stirred, J.'s parents heard two distinct noises: my voice -- "Ouch! Fuck!" -- and the subsequent laughter of my sympathetic beloved.
They fell from the sky with great force. They had about fifty feet to build up a good speed. I'm telling you, Chicken Little was right. All weekend long we heard them, bouncing off the dining fly, the tent, the station wagons.
Was it Father Oak, reclaiming the forest from the encroaching monkey-people? Was it the squirrels, murderous, their bushy tails full of evil?
I dunno, man. All I know is: those nuts were out for blood.
On our last full day in Maine, as I ate breakfast under the tarp, I thought about how lucky we were that none of us had been hit by them. I went to put something back in the car.
My ponderings of impunity, silent though they were, had awakened the rage of the woods. The tree, or the squirrels, acted almost at once.
Inside their tent, awakened but not stirred, J.'s parents heard two distinct noises: my voice -- "Ouch! Fuck!" -- and the subsequent laughter of my sympathetic beloved.
