Beady-Eyed Birds

I satisfied my lust for power last night. It was exhilarating! You should have seen me; I was on top of my game. I had hundreds of creatures in dread and cautious of my every move. Allow me to tell you a riveting story. Last night I was running down the boardwalk in Long Beach minding my own business and I happened to pass a massive gaggle of shifty-eyed seagulls with a chip on their shoulder, unruly pelicans with an attitude, and beady-eyed red/black birds looking for trouble. They were all over the sand acting like they owned the place! Yes, they were crowding me! I looked toward the ocean they were all standing around, posturing, looking like little street birds, sagging. I could tell that they were up to no-good. As I ran passed the fowl I noticed many had foul smirks, sneers, and disdain written across their smug faces. I couldn't believe it, I looked over my shoulder and heard them laughing at me like a pack of hyenas.

Ohhhhh they can’t fool me, ohhh no, I know exactly what they were thinking. They were thinking, “Those mere mortals, they run in circles, they run back and forth, up and down those stairs, they are so limited and slow, they are such fools. They chase meaningless materials and fuss and worry over nothing and everything all the time, they are nothing like us. We don’t worry about cloths, cars, houses or even our next meal, we fret about nothing; we enjoy the land, air, and sea, all the time. We own the skies! We are sooo superior!”

Sure, the beady eyed birds had a good laugh at my expense, but not for long. As they yukked it up, I snapped and turned around with malice in my heart. I was bound to ruffle-up a few feathers. The beach was no longer big enough for me and a bunch of trouble-makers. I chased those rascals around, in circles, back and forth, and up and down, for 15 minutes. They fought hard to hold their ground but in the end their persistence did not pay. The condescending fowl had to fly away. I’ll bet they had a foul taste in their mouths when they left. That pack of fluff and feathers may own the skies but I owned that patch of sand, for 15 minutes.

I no longer have need to command legions of men as I am now completely satisfied with chasing, in circles, back and forth, and up and down, a mass of wise-guy birds. I was the superior life form on the beach tonight, for 15 minutes.

Why stop to smell the roses when you can run and chase the birds?