Otter

Mr. Otter knocks upon the door, hoping she is home, yet hoping she isn’t at the same time. He is so nervous he can barely stand still.

The door opens. “Yes, Mr. Otter, how may I help you?”

Fussing with his tail, head bashfully low, he replies, “Well, I was wondering if I could… You see, I would like to ask you for… What I mean to say is… I’d like your… Well, I’m right in the middle of building, and I’ve run out…”

“Come in, come in.”  She says, nervous laughter in her voice as she waves a tiny hand in the air and turns toward the kitchen to begin fixing a pot of tea for Mr. Otter; he is such a fine gentleman, after all.

“Well, I didn’t wish to be rude…” he stammers. It seems this isn’t going to plan at all, he’s muttering like a fool, trying desperately to recover his fumbling tongue. “But you do always have the most wonderful twigs come dam season, and well, I was hoping… seeing as I had run out…”

“Yes, Mr. Otter?” She inquires over her shoulder.

Oh, you’re going to make me ask directly, aren’t you, he thinks to himself. Tail tucked firmly between his legs, hair quite the unruly mess, he manages to get the words past his dry lips. “Miss Otter, may I have… May I please have…” feeling quite the buffoon, he finishes quietly, “some of your twigs?”

“Why, Mr. Otter, there is no need to be so shy. You are more than welcome to borrow my twigs anytime you’d like. It’s been a busy season and I…” As she turns around, she sees Mr. Otter down on one knee, holding the sack tightly in his grip.

“Miss Otter, may I have the honor of borrowing… having all of your twigs, now and forevermore?”

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.