If he had been endowed by certain stereotypical strengths known to his caped-crusader namesake, he might have withstood the blow which took him whirling beneath the undercarriage. Had he not been staring wide-eyed up into the snow fallen sky imagining he was careening through a galaxy of stars, death may not have been so iminent. Had he noticed, I wouldn't have had to tearfully scrape his lifeless remains off of the road with a snow shovel and a fan rake. Had he been paying more attention, he wouldn't have been buried at the bottom of a municipal green garbage can between the diapers and yard debris. Perhaps I should have been paying closer attention. If I had, my Payton wouldn't have noticed the little tuft of feathers hanging on my guilty tire. Farewell little bird.
8 comments:
Okay, that's just sick.
Poor, poor Robin. Rest in Peace.
So sad, but I like the writing.
You put it so well.
Oh so sad! Poor Brooke.
Sorry, but I cracked up! I think because it's posted with a picture of the dead bird. I don't know why but I just keep laughing. I do feel bad for Payton. I hope your remorse is short lived. :)
Thank You, Ann(e) with an "E!"
Oh, sad day!
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