The squirrel running down the branch.
I watch it through the window.
It’s been years, and it seems like the same squirrel.
You and I used to watch the squirrel through the window.
You loved the squirrel.
Sometimes it would pause and look at us.
You would look back and talk to it.
You loved the squirrel.
I loved you.
Now I’m sitting here alone by myself watching the squirrel run down the branch.
I love the squirrel.