My wife and I were driving around, dropping off books at Little Libraries. So far, we’d dropped off twenty-five books at five Little Libraries. Only one stop remained.

I turned off East Main. It was sunny but rain was falling on the windshield.

“Squirrel!” my wife shouted.

I’d seen the squirrel bolting into the street and was braking before my wife said anything.

The squirrel and I both stopped. They turned and ran back to the sidewalk but stayed there.

I edged the car forward.

The squirrel edged forward.

I increased my speed.

So did the squirrel.

“Damn, dude, what are you doing?” I asked the squirrel through the window.

It turned right.

I accelerated away.