Day 99: 14 February 2026

 Short Story -- Happy Valentine's Day

He sat outside the window.

The young woman, hair in a messy bun, wearing a loose t-shirt and jeans, was standing at the counter chopping vegetables. There were a couple of mismatched pots of different sizes on the stove. She paused to wipe a stray strand of hair out of her face and look at the recipe for the seventh time.

There was a candle on the table. A large, fat white one. There were plates set out and glasses. A bottle of wine sat on the table.

It was nice, he thought, that the places were next to each other — the head of the table and the spot to the right — instead of opposite ends.

He looked back at the young woman. She was stirring a pot now. And it looked like she might be singing along to something. She looked happy.

She’s turned.

Maybe the door opened and someone was coming?

A man entered the picture: dusty jeans, a long sleeve button down over a t-shirt, work boots. He’s holding something… a few somethings.

She smiled warmly at him, jumping into his outstretched arms. Then she stepped back, also having noticed his full hands.

In his right, he was holding a bouquet of pink and red flowers. In his left, there was a small box of nine chocolates.

She clapped her hands delighted!

From outside, he’d have to imagine the conversation. But he imagined it was full of ‘Thank yous’ and ‘I love yous.’

He’d observed a number of houses this week with hearts in the windows, extra red and pink decorations, etc.

And he decided, looking at the happy couple inside, that he wanted to celebrate to.

But what to get for the girl that held his heart? She had the most beautiful eyes. She had the loveliest smile. She had the most melodic voice. She was generous. She was clever.

And then it came to him.

He hopped from his perch in the tree and ran to the side of the house. He flung open the rubbish bin.

‘Aha!’ he said triumphantly and snatched up a bit of shiny aluminum foil.

He carried it back to the tree, forming it into a square bowl of sorts. He then arranged bits of pizza crust, ice cream cone and nuts in it. These were her favourite foods after all.

He scurried back down the tree, where at the base were growing a patch of yellow and purple crocus. He nibbled the flowers off a few to make a small bouquet.

Having gathered his gifts, he turned to return home — a hole in a tree he shared with his last love. It wasn’t much, but it was perfect for two squirrels.