I spent the night at my lady friend’s house. She had to attend an AA meeting at ten in the morning so I was up and about at a decent hour. I drove to my house and played some Big Bill Broonzy on the guitar. There is a lot to the Saint Louis Blues, it’s not a song you can learn in a day.
My mind can only handle a little at a time before it feels like its going to explode. I was beginning to feel like I was watching the Inside Job. That movie should have been called The Hand Job, because that’s what Wall Street got from the American people. Actually, Wall Street did much better than that. The corn hole job is more to the point.
I took a break from the guitar and went outside to do some gardening. I was cutting back some bushes when an older woman pulled up in her car and parked. She got out of her car and walked up the road a bit before she stopped and bent over to pick something up. She had a plastic bag in her hand and I thought she was picking up after a dog, but then I noticed some kind of animal hanging out of the bag.
“What’s that?” I asked
“A dead squirrel. I can’t leave it there. It will get squished by cars and I’ll feel bad about it when I drive by.”
What a nice lady.
“I’m not sure what to do with it,” she said.
I wasn’t sure what to do with it either. My mind went blank. I had no answers. No solutions. How can I be helpful? I felt selfish just standing there with no resolution to offer.
“I’ll take it to my backyard and bury it,” the woman finally said.
I nodded my head.
The woman put the squirrel in her trunk and drove away.
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