Excerpt: Direct Democracy

The only visitor that week had been a giant squirrel on the window sill. It wasn't a particularly large squirrel. It was no fatter than the other gray squirrel of the city, but this one liked to sit on the sill and look inside, right at the camera that seemed to fascinate it. It stared, and its face was blown up to fill the wall screen by my desk. It caught me off guard, to look up into a tree rat's black eyes and twitching nose. I wanted to throw something at it, but the only thing on my desk at the time was a small plushy toy Lyza's kid gave me to decorate the office.
I felt guilty to throw it. It was the best a seven-year-old could do. It bounced off the window screen and the monster squirrel disappeared to the roof top garden.