Jul
3rd
Fri
3rd
there’s a dead bird in my driveway
Today, as I was wheeling my bike up my driveway, I spotted a little bird’s corpse laying on the cement. On its back with its wings stretched out, its feathers were almost completely decayed-brown, so it’s hollow ribcage peeked out from the chest. Promptly, I dropped my bike and grabbed a long rusted shovel from the garage. I inched the bird on the shovel’s plate. This process reminded me something of taking cookies out of an oven. I think because the bird wouldn’t completely get on the shovel until I nudged his delicate head against the grass lining my driveway. Like when you can’t get a grip on the cookie pan, you find yourself nudging the pan against the back of the oven. I walked around the house, and let the bird fly into the woods. I tossed him up into the air with my shovel. He did about three stiff spins before landing in a heap of brush. Some dust billowed up with his thump.
this hits home with me, i like it.
