Wait, what.

Dreams last so long
even after you’re gone
I know you love me
And soon you will see
You were meant for me
And I was meant for you.

The blood in Ray’s veins ran cold, as cold as iced fountain Diet Coke at a really high class McDonalds. He turned the piece of paper over and over again in his hands, but no — it was real. It was as real as a bird probably sitting in that tree over there or Hugh Hefner’s Viagra prescription.

“No,” he tried to whisper, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat, or maybe they even made it a bit further and actually got caught in the course hair curling around his mouth.

Ray walked inside and trimmed the facial area around his mouth.

“No,” he whispered again, this time successfully.

He took his cell phone out from his flannel shirt pocket.

“Hello? 911? It’s Ray LaMontagne again. Caragh is ignoring the restraining order and leaving pieces of paper with Jewel lyrics written on them out by my Hydrangeas. I think, oh god, I think this time she even taped a single pubic hair to the back. Hello? Hello?”

No one answered, because Ray forgot to dial, which didn’t matter because he was talking into a paralyzed rodent anyway. I think it was a mole but maybe it was a common mouse.