Yesterday I was wasting time between classes by enjoying a tasty salted nut roll. Upon finishing said nut roll, I paused to throw away the wrapper in the nearest trash can where I discovered a dead bird. I was sad to see the make-shift grave that this bird had ended up in. It was sharing it's resting place with old newspapers, chewed gum, and of course, my candy wrapper.
I understand that the University of Minnesota custodial staff doesn't have the time to line a shoe box with crumpled paper and carefully nestle the remains of the bird in the homemade coffin. They also don't have time to dig a hole in their back yard, bury the coffin, and make a head stone out of over-sized popsicle sticks. But I do wish that it wouldn't have met it's final resting place in a fucking trash can.
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2 comments:
o. what a sad, amazing little story. thanks.
That trash can is probably a much better vault than a gutter. I think it's just the idea of "throwing something away" that grinds the senses. Could you please send me an inspiration so I can write something as good as what you write? Thanks in advance!
Brent
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