Short-Story Saturday!

Hey all!

Here is yet another, very late, Short Story Saturday! I hope you enjoy this little story. I wrote it yesterday sort of on a lark. There’s really no point to it, I just love squirrels. Enjoy!

Pickle’s Pictures

I was sitting on the hill outside of Riverside College, drawing as I normally did, every day at three in the afternoon, when it happened. I was drawing Pickle, a squirrel who I had seen before and drawn often enough to recognize him whenever he came around. He had been bestowed with his name Pickle because the first day I was out on the hill drawing him I was eating lunch. Lunch that day was a turkey and cheese sandwich with tomatoes and pickles and the whole time I was trying to draw that silly squirrel, he kept trying to steal my pickles. I was indignant at first, but drawing his little face endeared me to him and whenever I was around, he always seemed to listen when I needed to talk.

So I was sitting on the hill outside Riverside, drawing Pickle as he was running around hiding nuts for winter. I was able to capture him digging at the base of the tree, almost as if I was looking over his shoulder helping him store his feed. I was working on getting the shading of his fur just right when wind suddenly blew the sheets on my lap off across the field. I leapt after them and after I had gathered them all, I returned to the tree, to find Pickle standing on his hind legs as if he had been waiting for me.

“That was a close one!” she said. Pickle was a girl?? Wait…why was Pickle talking????

I looked the squirrel up and down, and it looked back at me. “Did you get them all?” She spoke again. My jaw dropped and I sat down, heavily.

“Did you just talk?” I asked, staring at her in amazement.

“Of course!” said Pickle, in a most definitely female voice. “Didn’t you know all squirrels talk?”

I couldn’t say anything; I just sat and stared at her, completely flabbergasted. She hopped into my lap and looked at the pictures, using her paws to shuffle between the drawings scattered on my lap.

“I like this one a lot.” She said pointing to a picture I had drawn of a early morning sunrise I had drawn a couple weeks prior. That had been such a peaceful morning. I had lost my favorite bracelet the night before and had decided to go out for an early morning walk. “Is that me down there?” She motioned with one of her paws at the small animal like mark at the bottom of the page. I marveled at Pickle’s ability at small talk.

“Yeah, that’s you. You were milling around and I figured I had to add you in there.” I replied after I found my voice. She grinned, (as if a squirrel could grin) and continued shuffling through pictures. She giggled when she came to the pictures of her.

“You’re really good” she said, “everything you draw looks almost real.” She perched on my knee, standing on her back legs. “I know an owl that I think you would have fun drawing. He’s very wise and has seen a lot of the world. I think you’d like him. I’ll go and get him!” And she scampered off into the woods and hills behind me.

I woke up to my pictures scattered around me, and Pickle still next to the tree digging away completely silent. I shook my head at the dream and gathered my pictures. I needed to head to class. As I walked away, I almost swore I heard a small voice say “Good bye!” I shook my head again…silly dream.

 

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