| It was morning. The light was soft and gray, low in the sky. The snowfall of the previous days dampened the sound; there was only a slight rustling of tree branches as the wind brushed over the hills. The fresh cold air stung his nose as as he pulled up his snuggly warm scarf mask. Well... hmmm may be those masks really are good for something! However, I hate people telling me what to do, ...like I have to use fully-jacketed rounds at the indoor shooting range, because they're concerned about LeAd PoIsOnInG... OooOOooOOoo. They also complained last week when I took my trash to the dump, I ran into an old friend, who enthusiastically said to me, "This kind of lichen is edible! Look how much there is, we could eat all day!" I nearly gagged at the idea. "I'm not really hungry," I said, "2 bites and I am full. However I will never turn down a big bowl of Whoop-Ass! You can set it right next to this bigger can of Whoop-Ass!" Some distance away, a browsing elk suddenly lifted his head. Tensed, he listened and his eyes sparked. He recognized that sound. Infuriated, he snorted, and the breath was visible in the cold air. The hills echoed with his bellow of rage, and remnants of soft verses of Psalmic peace. I was at a loss. How should I feel? I chose to feel enraged and offended. I pulled out one of my several protest signs and started swinging it like a battle axe. The nearest bystander had to duck, to avoid being hit by a flying chocolate cream pie which had been lovingly prepared by Gordon Ramsay, who proceeded to blow his top and go on a profanity-filled tirade when he saw one of the customers use a dessert spoon when he was supposed to use a soup spoon. "You donkey!" he screamed. "Get out of the way of that rapidly moving ice stor' Have you no sense??" We then proceeded to wend our way through Wendy's, admiring everyone's entree as we approached the front counter. We stared transfixed at the huge, lit-up menu, offering a panoply of mouth-watering pies, sweet and savory. There was even food for the animals! Suet for the birds, hay for the deer, and for the squirrels, there was no end of torment. Cats, speeding cars, rogue birds...the squirrels fought to survive every day, and had done so for centuries. Once, on the eve of an invasion, all the neighbors noticed more squirrels than usual sprinting over roofs and roads, gathering on the tree branches, clinging to the tree trunks, watching waiting, watching, waiting. How long is all this going to take? ! But just as I was ready to give up, around the corner came Santa Claus! He had an entourage of elves all singing "Here comes Santa Claus! Here comes Santa Claus!!" Much to my surprise, he was driving a golf cart outfitted with giant boom boxes. Everyone slapped their hands over their ears, and when he got close to them, they froze in shock, speechless with awe. Unblinking, the full moon stared down, uncaring, from a starless sky, rimed with icy clouds. I couldn't feel my feet or hands anymore. I was so tired. If I could just sleep for a minute or two, I could probably get enough strength to make it to the road. As my eyelids slid closed of their own volition, the last thing I heard from the crackling, dying radio was "Oh, the weather outside is frightful..." THE END! |