(no subject)

[theflyingsquirl]

There are two human-squirrel hybrids in the bar today, feeling the absence of the third component of their family cube. Squirrel, more tired than he can remember being at any point in the past twenty years outside of right before hibernation, is curled up in a chair feeding baby Evan a bottle (of squirrel milk; you can get it from the bar, but you probably don't want to) and half-watching a small portable television.

Coreen may be gone, but at least there's Shark Week? It's something, anyway.

Distractions are welcome.

[open until it falls off the page!]