Dining Out ...
January 24, 2012
“Hey buddy, what are you looking at? Haven’t you ever seen a pelican dining out before?” This, I made sure to follow up with a big exaggerated wink and a right-winged salute.
He appeared to be taken aback. Stumbling, he tripped over his humongous feet as they became tangled in the deliciously salty seaweed mounds. He hit the sand hard with a muffled thud and a loud oomph, so typically human. The silky, wet sand under his feet launched into the air only to fall down on me like an angry, fast rain. A few flaps of my wings (more graceful than a chicken I’ll have you know), a cha-cha step or two, and the grit from my feathers dropped to the ground.
Initially I found myself in a conundrum. I wasn’t sure whether or not to grab a quick snack, seeing his mustard covered pretzel on the ground, or engage him in conversation. We all know what effect a talking gull had the last time: floored, speechless, and I’m guessing probably hungry now. Hmmm, that pretzel does look scrumptious. Oh well, in the interest of time and the fact that I’m a chatty aviator, I hopped onto the roof of the hermit crab lounge; the moist, green algae covered piece of driftwood lying next to the sandy-tooshed lump.
“Now that I have your attention sir, let me tell you a tale of wonder.” Mouth agape, he stared at me in disbelief, as though he spied a mermaid emerging from the sea, cradling the Travelocity gnome in her arms. Yeah, we know all about your silly television commercials. But really, the mermaids, they only leave the sea at night. Shhh. “You better close that mouth of yours pretty fast, boy! Don’t wanna swallow any innocent sand flies out for an early morning flight, do ya?”
Ahem, ahem, ahem.
“I met a man. Don’t give me that look. What do you want me say, seagull of the male persuasion? Aaagh, cough, cough, what a mouthful. Suspension of disbelief, ehhh, ever heard of it? Geez. Let me start over. “
“I once met a man who called me friend, and I, he. His soul was delicate, bruised, and talked to mine. Words and emotions swirled about. One thousand, two thousand, so much more only the two souls could hear, creating neither a mirror nor an echo but a sense of completion. We rode the airways, shaping the clouds into what we desired, like carving an ice sculpture … only a bit more refined. Ahem, excuse me! I can tell by those rolling eyes, you think I didn’t notice ehhh, that you’re a bit skeptical of my cloud work. Well, let me ask you. When you look up at those giant cotton balls, are they just white blobs or do you see elephants, bows and arrows, and, and, …? Hmmm, let me give you a few minutes to ponder. …”
Written: January 24, 2012
Posted: January 24, 2012
© C Berger
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