Wednesday, 6 October 2010

I felt I should recover my decorum after the madness...

The owls were dead. That's all the closure you're going to get.
This isn't me. From here...
The rain was light, nothing to complain about. I shouldn't open with the weather, I know, but it's all there was in the desert. The rocks moved slightly underfoot, thin gravel and small road boulders running around my feet. The rainwater filled around my feet as the time passed, even the lightest of falls make torrents with time. Also, I was walking in a gutter. I'd decided it was time for a break, time to control the beast within me. Not a real beast, although my departure, shirted and bag on back down a desert highway was rather reminiscent of the Hulk.
 No, the beast was one of metaphorical proportions. It was anger though, like Bruce Banner. But stupid anger, anger towards Max (Which isn't so stupid) and anger towards most things. I mean, ok, zombie owls attacked my house the other day, and a lot of other bad shit happened to me in the past. But really, it's nothing worth complaining about. Besides, it'll do me some good to have a break. Meet new people, see interesting new places.

Ahead of me, in the road, a vulture sat watching me. I began to worry, could he be the Devil? Pissed him off before, probably best to avoid him. But then again, he'd been wearing a suit and was red. The vulture was not, and I didn't figure the Devil to be the kind of person who'd try to trick you.

 "Caww" Said the vulture.
I stopped and looked at him sadly.
 "Caww!" He said. Note, please, the excitement he said it in.
 "I'm sorry," I replied. "I don't speak vulture."
 "Caww!" He repeated. I shook my head again, and he pulled a knife from his feathers, waving it unsteadily in my direction.
 "Caww! Give me your wallet!" He demanded.
 "You bastard!" I yelled. "You spoke English the whole time! Where's the nearest train station?"
 "Caww! Wallet!" He yelled.
I was bored, and began walking again. As I passed the vulture, he lunged at me with the knife. Fortunately, he had no hands, so the stab had no force. Dropping the knife, he looked embarrassed and retreated behind a nearby rock.
 After a few seconds, the bitter-sweet noise of animal crying filled the air. I too became embarrassed, and set off again on my journey.
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