Every year they come and take over my home. They put up their booths and stands without any regards to the domiciles they’re disrupting. I can’t take it!
Not this year!
I will have my revenge on Vintage Days for their invasion on my domain! I will shut down the student group with every follicle of fur on my endothermic body! When twilight arrives, my spleenful plot will execute
I felt electric with spark from fibers of wires being gnawed between my dulled incisors. Each split in the wires opened the gap of separation from input to output; by sunrise, their supply of electricity will drop to zero and their plans for celebration will die.
Plans are never meant to be absolute, but my anticipation for interruption was minute. In the midst of my revenge, I was throttled from my reverie by a bull dog.
Victor E. had caught me, a frenzied squirrel trying to extract vengeance through defilement of Vintage Day property. The adrenaline from panic pumped from my whiskers to my tail, but I relented in suspending my current activities to account for my misanthropic actions.
Victor E. didn’t attack me, he just watched.
The intensity of his eyes were pressuring the truth from my mouth, and I began to confide my frustrations of this event and my life to him. Victor E. didn’t speak a single word during the entirety of my rant. As the last syllable slipped through my lips, an onslaught of exhaustion wracked my body.
I felt Victor E. step closer and trepidation trembled throughout me- but I didn’t sense any rage, just comfort. He had listened to my confession and in reflection, I realized I sounded pathetic. He sat beside me and told me that frustration is nothing to bury; it’s the truth of our thoughts that we are ashamed to acknowledge and suppress- but it’s natural. His words relaxed my rigid frame as I listened to him elaborate the rights of frustration at frivolous things. He held my attention captive by the confidence in his speech.
Our discussion drifted towards Vintage Days. We spoke of the fantastic food that would be left for us to enjoy, the beautiful melodies of happiness that will fill the air, and the exciting activities that will relieve our frustrations.
That night Victor E. saved Vintage Days, and he saved me- a lonely squirrel confused by his own introverted nature and desire to be alone. That night I learned to embrace the company of others and developed something to celebrate.