flack attack

i saw this thing crawling across marshall ave last sunday at dusk. i was on the porch, having a cigarette in the lovely evening weather and this creature moving with such an eerie air crawled across the street. at first i thought it was a paper bag, as the back half looked flat, then i thought it was a mole or some such variation, with flexible flesh for tunneling, but then i saw that it was a common squirrel that had been run over, his hind legs dragging, his torso paper thin.
he moved across the street in a determined fashion, but not quickly. he was almost hit by two other cars on the journey, disappearing under their carriages only to emerge again still moving, still carrying his dead body. and once he made it to the other side he wasn't able to hoist himself over the curb. he couldn't even rest his little squirrel elbows on the ledge, as i'm certain that his other bones would fold, crumple beneath him.
he finally found a way to slide sideways, over the pretty, cream cement incline. families and couples and dogs (oh god, the tiny nightmares that passed through me when i realized the long-leashed dogs might sniff him out) passed him by, just a few feet of sod and this thing was starting it's own terrible death rot. the yard he was able to perch himself on was vast, quite scenic. a woman in khaki shorts, a hat, was gardening just next to the porch and squirrel continued to press forward, almost like he wanted to reach her.
how terrible it would have been. she'd be in a serene state of mind, probably using one of those beautiful gardening tools to smooth the soil around a hydrangea bush, maybe humming or revising a conversation she wanted to have with her son about the slut he was dating. in a pause or in between breaths she'd turn, before she even know why or how for, and there he'd be, this wild, wicked pet of death. his mangled body, his little teeth.
i wasn't able to watch him finally die. i couldn't take my eyes away for several minutes and then, i just wanted to leave it all alone.