Hanoian introversion

Half past seven on a Friday morning, mildly cold after erratic drizzle. The slight chill wrapped my limbs and back as I calmly strolled across the courtyard at 17 Ly Nam De Street, in one corner of which stood my wife’s scooter ready for her commute.

But there was something unusual in the background. Just as I turned my eyes around, a little thing sprinted from a bush and sat oddly petrified just some steps from where I was. Apparently, his slick dash was too eye-catching amid the static lot. It was a squirrel.

Having lived in the downtown of Hanoi for 28 years, this was the first time I saw such a thing. Not only as squirrels were elusive, it is also because the urban sprawl left them not much room to survive. The encounter with the spiky-eared rodent was unusual, yet so sweet that it hooked my sight until a wake-up call came.
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