DC Playwrights

“how do you want to die?”
asked the squirrel.
“curious or are you pre-meditating again?
’cause pre-meditating will get you life –“
“yeah, i know,” interrupted the squirrel.
“crime of passion, eight to ten.”

“well, not that i want to be defenestrated,
but i have this recurring dream,” i said.
“defenestrated? what does that mean?”
interrupted the squirrel again.

“it means being killed
by being thrown through a window,” i explained.
“happens a lot in nineteenth century russian novels.”

“you certainly don’t hear
that word being used much any more,”
mused the squirrel.
“putin charged with defenestration.”

“pity,” i said.