I decided I needed to add another bit of entertainment to this particular creative outlet, so I took a writing assignment from my inbox and here is what was born.
As the sun peeks out of the clouds, silence reigns over the hill despite the throngs of people. Men and women in heavy wool coats, scarves, and thick gloves raise those gloved hands to their lips. Small children stop squirming, wiping snotty noses with thick mittens, and complaining about the cold. Instead, they all look toward the center of the hill where three old men stand behind a podium. Instead of facing the crowd, these are looking intently at a small hole in the hilltop.
They seem oblivious to the chill in the air and the snow surrounding them. Someone got up early to clear the snow from this spot. It has been piled higher than the tallest man's head all around the circle. Why? Why are so many people staring at a solitary hole on this particular hill? The answer is quick to present itself as a nose tentatively pokes out of the hole, whiskers wiggling questioningly. The nose disappears again as the clouds cover the sun. All the watchers shiver as the warmth of the sun quickly dissipates, but no one turns to go.
The nose appears again, sniffing the air one more time before it is followed by a round body covered in mottled brown, gray and black fur. The crowd breathes out as one as, Gerard the Groundhog waddles further out of his home, heading toward the three men closest to him. Even from a distance, his long teeth gleam menacingly as he makes a low sound in his throat.
"I think he's hungry," the tallest, and also the thinnest, of the three men laughs nervously as he backs away.
The shortest of the men laughs at this as well, but not from fear. Instead of moving away, he crouches in front of the star of the show. He reaches out a hand and waits.
"Hey, Gerard. I see you're bringing us good news this year," his voice would sound the same if he were talking to a young child.
The groundhog tilts its head to one side as if processing the question. Then he steps forward again, advancing on the short man with another soft trilling sound. When he reaches his target, he gives little notice to the man's caress. Instead, he steps closer, tilts his head even further to the side and leans forward to bite the man on the leg. The man squeals in surprise as the animal latches on, digging long claws into the man's calf.
The rest of the assembled crowd screams in terror. Without a second thought, they turn away from the groundhog and head for their cars. The silence is completely broken as children begin sobbing in fear and parents counsel their older children and each other to hurry. In a matter of minutes, the people who took hours to assemble have gone. Even the three men who were in charge of the festivities have contributed the slamming of their own car doors to the sounds preceding the squeal of tires.
Soon the groundhog is left alone to survey his hill and look forward to an early spring. As he gazes out over the now peaceful park, a gunshot breaks the newborn silence. The groundhog narrows his eyes, but he does not go down. He looks toward the sound of the gunshot as if he is challenging the shooter to challenge his declaration of an early spring. No more shots ring out.
