“I will chase you to hell and back if you ever go near my children again!” he screamed.

     “You'd better listen to him, because I am right behind him to finish you off!” she shrilled.

     But he was running, and the sound in his ears was unintelligible. All he knew was that he had gone to the wrong place, and that mistake would not happen again. He had not meant any harm, was just out for a fun run, looking at the sky and the trees and not paying enough attention.

     Now he ran through purple lace. Whoosh! What the...Whoosh! The lace was wet, his face was wet. The summer rain had left the Crepe Myrtle damp, but the wind kicked it up when he loosened it by running through. Keep running. There's another tree; no option but to climb it and hide in the small branches.

     There, no sign of them. All was quite except the passing of a car. He climbed farther up, and seeing that the coast was clear, lept onto a phone line and scampered to the next tree on his way to home territory. Damned Blue Jays.