The fact that they got the peanuts didn't surprise me.
I mean, they ate everything else that hit the ground out there--Why wouldn't they start ripping into the peanuts I left behind?
Every day, I go out there to smoke. I cross my legs on the wobbly little bench, pull a cigarette from my shirt, and take the time to enjoy giving myself cancer. Sure, it's a self-destructive little ritual, but it's *my* little ritual thank-you-very-much. Gives me a chance to get out from behind my desk for a while where it's relatively quiet, enjoy the outdoors. Assuming your definition of 'the outdoors' includes a bunch of concrete and parked cars.
I didn't notice them for a while--I don't even really know if they were there at first. Then, one day, I happened to look down and see a beautiful moth just sort of sitting there, resting on the concrete. It had the most amazing pink and yellow wings, like cotton candy had just been dropped to the ground. I got down near eye-level with the little bug, peering i