Mr. K.

All he needed was a nice cup of milky tea on the porch, looking out over the lake, squirrels playing in the trees, birds nesting. Yes, especially the birds. They gave him a deep feeling of happiness.

He kept to himself. He just liked to tinker on things, MacGuyver around if you will. But mostly he enjoyed walking trough the woods or riding his bike. He also had a lot of fun with the weekly crossword from the local paper. It took him a while, but he always finished it.

Once, a squirrel tore his paper up. Fortunatly the crossword wasn’t damaged, at least not beyond recognition.
“you know how squirrels are” he thought as he shook his head. He felt sorry for the squirrel. It was winter, and the poor thing probably didn’t have anything to eat left. From that time on, he left a few pieces of bread under the feeding table. Nuts for the birds, bread for the squirrels.

He decided to bring an extra loaf of bread back from the shop as soon as he had posted his next package.

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