MOMENT by Chad Redden

A little raccoon, more sponsor than mascot, came with the moment, came down the tree. We waited below the tree, Ryan and me. Waited for the racoon that came with the moment, but it was a tall tree, it took some time. For the racoon. For the tree to grow that tall, how many years I cannot speculate. I cannot look at a tree and say how much time it took for a tree to grow. It took some time for the racoon to reach the ground. After a while Ryan had to leave, before the racoon could reach the ground. Ryan could not wait, he was due at work. The bakery department at the grocery store. “Those doughnuts aren’t going to pull themselves out of the freezer. Aren’t going to thaw themselves. Aren’t going to decorate themselves,” Ryan said. “It’s fine,” I told him. “I’ll let the racoon know.” I did. The racoon understood. I gave the racoon a little pink glass rock from an aquarium I had in my pocket. I stopped by an aquarium earlier in the day. It was on the sidewalk for free. All I took was a little pink glass rock. The racoon was thankful, spun the little pink glass rock around in their little racoon hands. Like a little cloud of cotton candy but shiny, glassy. I said, “I wish Ryan were here to see this, it’s joyful. Guys thawing out doughnuts don’t get a lot of joyful moments, they’re too busy decorating them.” Then I said to the racoon, “I don’t know if you know about doughnuts, but they tend to bring joy to the person eating them.” The racoon dropped the little pink glass rock, then picked it up, spun it around in their little racoon hands again. I said, “That’s alright, it’s fine, it’s yours, try again.”


Chad Redden lives in Bloomington, Indiana.

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