Category: A page or two from my vacation journal
Author Analysis: Somehow, a lot more than I planned got into this.
A couple of blue jays are taunting me and the cat this morning. I believe they're chuckling because neither of us can fly.
They are nearly ruining our morning. I'm sitting out on the porch in the pleasant post-dawn but can't concentrate on writing, the way those birds are dive bombing us. The cat near my feet has more dignity than I do. He's ignoring them, illustrated by an all-pervasive tranquility as he occupies his patch of sunshine. His tail is swishing however, so I know his true feelings.
Ignoring them is not an option for me. "I can so fly," I tell them. "I just need a machine to do it, is all."
That's not the whole truth, though.
"All right, birds. I need the man too, the man that operates the machine."
"So where is this machine," one calls down from a nearby tree branch.
""Yeah, where," the other echoes from a different tree.
"And where's the man," the first one says on his banked turn above my head, as he joins the second one, to show a solidarity of couplehood.
"Yeah, where" the other echoes.
The cat's bush tail brushes my ankle. I look down.
"They're just trying to piss you off," he says. "Don't give them what they want."
It was too late. I was pissed off already. Mostly at a certain pilot who once flew me around islands and over mountains and along the ocean. He forgot to stop for me one day. Flew straight over the runway, didn't even tip his wings like in the past.
These birds are just trying to rub it in. They know darn well I've been evicted from the sky.
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