Why the Squirrel Crossed the Road by Michael Sherrin

“Seems far,” Acorn said, staring across the solid, Black River.

“And loud,” said Cashew.

Acorn squeezed the soft dirt between his paws. The Black River was at least a hundred tails across. No squirrel worth his fur feared crossing it. But not all made it back.

“Yu kan dot,” Cashew said.

“What?” Acorn lifted his ears toward his friend.

“Sorry. Eating nuts.”

“Where did you get nuts?”

“I had some in my cheeks. I eat when I’m nervous.” Crumbs fell from Cashew’s mouth.

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