The squeak of death…
Wednesday, April 26th, 2006I am sitting in a park in Brighton. I am minding my own business. I am reading the newspaper. The serious bits, not the sports. I can hear rustling in the bushes. I attribute it to the scurrying of small mammals. Then I hear a loud squeak. I turn to see something rolling down the slope towards me. At first I think it may be a mouse. It is not a mouse. It is a frog. I look up to where this frog’s short roll began. A squirrel is sitting there. I poke the frog with my foot. It does not move. It’s eyes are open. But it is dead. The squirrel has killed the frog. I wasn’t even aware they were in the same food chain. But I have heard the squeak of death.
I start to walk home. A cliche happens. A dog is barking furiously at a postman. Is it the red bag that sets them off? Who can tell..
The Dude