There’s a story in everything. In everyday things. In walking down the street, seeing a squirrel hiding behind a tire. It tries to run, but you catch it’s eye and the two of you engage in a stare down. For almost a full minute, you’re standing there. The squirrel’s chest moves up and down with it’s breath as it sizes up the situation it has found itself in. “Hello, Squirrel,” you say. It tilts it’s head slightly just as a lady walks by and it takes it’s moment to disappear.