It wasn’t easy, being a squirrel. This came to mind while I was in the middle of a road, with a bicycle approaching on the left and a car coming in from the right. I needed a way to get out without getting squashed. My great aunt’s cousin’s daughter’s sister’s brother-in-law’s son was run over by a car. You could still see the print of the squirrel grounded into the street if you walk around the corner, stretched out like he was running at full speed. His family still leaves a rose petal on the place where it happened every Wednesday.
I did not want to end up like my distant relative.