_ant_ tt one morning, the squirrel sat at his table and decided to write a letter to the ant. he didn't know how he should write what he wanted to write. "hello, ant," he began. but that wasn't what he meant. he put the letter on the floor and started again. "dear ant," he wrote. but that looked even less apt. at the top of a new sheet, he wrote, "hi ant," and on top of the next, "ant!" and then "ant," and "oh ant," and "amiable ant," and "ant, ant..." he kept on all morning, sighing more and more deeply as time passed. "there has to be a beginning," he thought, "that ideally suits the ant." he was certain there was, but he couldn't come up with it. the pile of letters on the floor around the squirrel got larger and larger. finally, the squirrel stood up, waded through the letters, and opened his door to sit on the branch in front of his house and think. but when he stepped outside, the wind slipped in, tore the letters from his room, and blew them in a little whirlwind all the way to the ant. it was a beautiful day and the ant was sitting in the sun outside his house, thinking about the distance. suddenly, he was buried in swirling letters. they tumbled down into piles that reached far above his head. with difficulty, he wormed his way out of the gigantic pile and started reading. by the time he had finished, it was late in the evening and the moon had risen. the ant sat briefly and looked at the bushes in the dark. then he carefully piled up the letters until they reached all the way up to the edge of his roof. then he climbed up to the side of his house, lay down, pulled the letter that said, "dear ant," over him like a blanket, and fell asleep. the moon shone and when the ant turned over, the letters rustled. the ant nodded in his sleep and murmured. "the ant, that's me." 130217 ... unhinged atmosphere 130217 what's it to you? who go blather from