Flash Fiction |
Sunday Morning “Out in the backyard overwhelmed by how quickly weeds came back, I just pulled them all out a few days ago! Or... was it weeks? Anyway why is it that weeds are so easy to grow, and pretty things act like prima donnas? As I stood there contemplating paving the whole thing over like a parking lot, a shadow fell on me. Thinking a cloud, I looked up at the sky, but found it clear and blue, no clouds. Looking around fast, in case it was some giant bird or something, I did see something shoot in our one tree, but in where I couldn’t see it through the thick leaves. Of course, I immediately thought flying saucer. You know, just because people won’t admit they saw one doesn’t mean they didn’t. Who wants everyone to think you’re a wacko just because they’re closed minded. Picking up a rock, just in case whatever it was, was looking at me as food... I slowly walked over to where I might be able to see it. It was a bird! No bird I’d ever seen before, even in pictures. It was a big as I imagined an eagle would be, but pink. And as soon as I could see it, it was looking right at me. I decided not to do anything but get back inside as quick as possible! I started walking backwards slowly, keeping my eye on the bird, who also seemed to be keeping its eye on me. Suddenly it squawked loudly! I jumped a mile and ran into the house, slamming the door to keep it out!” “Oh really, and that’s why you slammed the door, waking me up?” “Yes. It had nothing to do with the pancakes you said you’d make this morning...” “Got it...” |