The Teacher, The Skunk, and the Squirrel.

In the thick dusk of the night, The Teacher drives home on a country road, route 44. On route 44 The Teacher checks his rearviewmirror, checks the air conditioner dial, and flips on the front wipers to destroy the bits of rain that begin to splash his windshield. The Teacher moves his thermostat to his mouth. Ahhh. Then punches the gut of the passenger seat with the Thermos and releases grip.
Route 44 splices a lively forest in half. In the thick of the dusk, The Skunk scavenges at the edge of Route 44. The Skunk ate the wrapper of an ‘Oh Henry’ bar last night. Since this morning, though, The Skunk has been starved. The Squirrel watches The Skunk from a high cedar oak branch. Last week The Squirrel saw a miraculous thing when The Skunk sniffed out a strawberry milkshake and then sucked up the remnants inside the cup and then devoured part of the Styrofoam cup as well. Maybe The Squirrel will start to suck up the left-overs of The Skunk’s finds. Then a thing happens when The Squirrel, while keeping one eye on The Skunk to see what he finds, sees a half burger slightly to the left of the road—accompanied by a paper wrapper covering most of the burger. But what will The Skunk find tonight? Forget about the burger.
The Squirrel sees the burger glow dimly, but increasingly. The Squirrel watches The Skunk along the edge of Route 44, scavenging like mad in fire, head to the ground. It is not long before The Squirrel realizes that The Skunk is definitely on to something. The burger, though, glows. God Damnit, forget about the burger! The Skunk, nose beneath the ground, zigzags to The Burger. The Skunk crosses the yellow stripped lane line and feels his way towards the burger. Definitely some kind of motion, senses The Squirrel. A loud yelp of a machine-like sound. The Skunk looks to its right, slowly. Damnit, The Squirrel senses, The Skunk is too tired for this! Shocked, indeed, The Skunk sees the machine and is immobile. The Squirrel ducks under a hanging branch to see more clearly. The machine is gone and The Skunk lay beside the burger now, twitching slightly, maimed entirely. The Skunk lifts its head from the ground and flops down in tiredness. The Squirrel lifts its head high in the air and becomes terrorized. The Squirrel lifts its head high above the hanging branch that a moment ago it ducked under. Twitching his nose like a propeller, The Squirrel lifts its head. Now, convinced in his terror, The Squirrel dashes down the tree and dashes into the forest to escape the scent.
"And so the gizzard of the ruffed grouse now hangs aloft." - Clothed In Fur


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