Acorns & Sunflowers

The evening sun bathed the streets in a warm, golden glow as James walked home, his thoughts heavy with the weight of a day that had stretched on endlessly. The world seemed to pause in the golden hour, but for James, every step echoed through his mind.

He was replaying his last conversation with Ellie. One of those, the kind that starts with something small but somehow spirals into a reminder of all things left unsaid. They had been married for nearly three years, and together for twelve. While most of the days were good, there were moments when the weight of the unspoken grew heavier between them.

As he approached the driveway to his house, he noticed something in the road. A squirrel, small and still, lay motionless on the asphalt. James didn't think much of it at first, it's all too a common occurrence this time of year as they dart around and prepare for the frost. He noticed, however, another squirrel beside it. James froze and observed the scene unfolding in front of him: this smaller, slighter squirrel was nudging gently its silent companion as if trying to wake it from a deep sleep.

The living squirrel kept nudging, pawing at the other as if trying to will it back to life. It circled again and again, chittering softly, pleading it to move, to get up and scurry off together with their small pile of acorns strewn across the road. But the other squirrel remained motionless, its bright eyes now glazing over, dull and unseeing.

James watched, tears welling in his eyes. He felt a deep, aching sorrow he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. Ellie. She had always been quiet about her pain, keeping it hidden beneath a beautiful, cheeky smile. The contagious kind that instantly lifted the spirit of any room she found herself in. But the day he found her, that smile was gone, replaced by a similar stillness that told him everything.

He had come home early one day, getting off work a couple of hours before the evening rush. He stopped at the grocery store and purchased her a bouquet of sunflowers, his favorite flower to gift her on the days she seemed to need a pick-me-up.

The house was silent, no ambient TV or white noise as was often heard. Shifting through the house quietly so as not to wake her if she were sleeping, he found her peacefully in bed, her normally straight hair curled. He was relieved for but a passing moment when his eyes scanned the room and saw an empty pill bottle on the nightstand beside her. He dropped the flowers and sprinted across the room to her, to wake her, to tell her it would be okay, that he was there, and she wasn't alone. She needn't be alone.

But she did not stir.

His world collapsed in that moment. James felt his legs give was as he crumpled beside her, his hand frantically searching for a pulse, for any sign of life. He buried his head into hers, "Ellie, please," he whispered, his voice barely audible, broken. "Please, wake up." The silence that answered him punctuated by an ever-growing sob.

James blinked, the vivid memory fading as he refocused on the scene before him. The living squirrel was still there, its small form a stark reminder of his own life. This animal, a seemingly simple and careless creature, nudged one last time and retreated to the trees.

James crossed the road, his steps slow and deliberate, and gently scooped up the little body, cradling it in his hands as if it were the most fragile thing in the world. He shifted the squirrel to his left, hugged it to his body, bent over and scooped up the few acorns it had carried. He walked for what felt like hours to the edge of the woods, tears streaming down his face, sobbing softly. With trembling hands, he laid the squirrel with its acorns beneath the shelter of the old oak tree his friend had just moments earlier ran up.

"I'm sorry."

He whispered a quiet goodbye, not just for the little squirrel, but to the part himself he had lost with Ellie. He turned and walked back to his empty home, the sun finally dipping below the horizon.

That night he dreamed of Ellie, of her smile that had only recently brought light into his life and rescued him from his own darkness. In his dream, she was alive again, and they were walking together through the woods, sun warm on their faces, and the shadows of the past nowhere to be found. But as the dream faded and morning light crept in, James knew he would keep waiting, just as the squirrel had, for a life that had already slipped away.