It's a Hard-Knock Life

I don't know about you folks, but I feel like it's been a really long week and it's only Wednesday. Here's a little something something from the archives just to maybe give you a laugh, or at least a distraction from the pressing matters to which you should be attending. Hang in there, have a beer, and remember: it's almost Friday.

XOXO

Tail Feathers

By S.M. Kosch

               

                Apparently the birds are dying. I read about it in the paper. Birds dropping out of the sky in Arkansas, Japan, Sweden. Weird shit. They’re blaming it on fireworks, if you can believe that. Maybe they just say that because it’s a little bit funny. Can you imagine birds getting hit by fireworks? Hell, I can’t even hit ‘em with the Chevy.

                But there was this robin out in the yard the other day, just bouncing around as I washed out my coffee cup and stared out the window. Just as a joke, I said, “When are ya’ll going to stop making the news? I’m getting bird to death with it all.” I chuckled a bit and dried off my mug, but when I looked back out the window he was staring at me. Just frozen in place with his little glass eyes and his little orange beak looking cold and sharp. I felt like I do when I’m walking at night and hear the echo of my own footsteps: nervous, and stupid for feeling nervous because I know it’s just me. So I just stared at that bird waiting for him to go back to pecking for worms or flutter off somewhere.

But he kept fucking staring.

Then he flipped me the bird.