park-squirrel

Updated: May 20, 2025

And it struck me as odd, the next moment, that he should be actually sobbing. "Oh, my dear, my dear, the one thing I was blind to was your bigness, was your goodness. The one thing I forgot was how true blue you could be." I sat there staring at his still heaving shoulders, turning over what he had said, turning it over and over, like a park-squirrel with a nut.

Arthur Stringer - The Prairie Mother