I Started to Write

I started to write one day.

Things were going well, a little slow, but well.

When out of nowhere, the words became unstuck. Just fell flat to the bottom of the screen. I began to type again, tentatively this time.

Again, the words stuck, only to peel away like old car decals, dropping to the bottom of my screen.

And so it went. I tried two more times. Okay, I tried three more times then slammed my laptop closed. 'Fine,' I thought to myself, 'Nothing wrong with pen and paper'. Collecting my materials, I flopped on the couch. I tried to relax.

I began again. Nothing was sticking. As soon as I completed a word, it detached itself and tumbleweeded its way down my paper. This time I thought I'd try taping my words as I went. I hefted myself up off the couch, returning to the Carissa-sized butt indent.

I wrote my words - quickly - and I taped them down, one by one.

There was no use! The tape uprooted with the determinedly stubborn verbiage and piled up on my lap.

Frustrated, I grabbed the handful of words, feeling like shavings in my hand. I was tossing them in the trash as I thought about how similar to pencil shavings they felt. So strange that creative thought produced on paper would unravel to become something resembling pencil shavings. Shavings have no use, no real upcycle or recycle opportunity. No use. To say that my ideas were like this would be upsetting to say the least.

I went about my day, considering this thought.

I found my nephew playing with his cars in the living room. On a whim, I asked him to try to write something on my notepad. He's not old enough to have the dexterity or linguistic ability to write yet. In fact, he has very little patience for even taking crayon to paper.

My nephew obliged...momentarily...and produced some scribbles, hardly attributable to any type of symbols. I watched the paper intently while he ran back to get his toys.

My nephew's scribbling didn't fall off and crumple on my lap. Determining that this must be because they're nonsensical swirls, I do the same thing. I copy his scribbles onto the paper.

Mine fall onto the denim covering my legs...

To be continued.

Lola the Bird

WHACK.

WHACK.

PUT PUT PUT.

"GARY!" No response. I nibbled at a spot under my wing. PUT PUT PUT PUT PUT.

I sighed, shook my feathers, and peeked out. My eyes scanned the front of the house. He wasn't on the perch, or the edge of the roof. I couldn't see him anywhere. Sighing another sleepy sigh, I was about to retreat  to go back to sleep, maybe fix my nest when GARY FLAPPED DOWN TO THE PERCH.

Startled, I jumped back and nipped at Gary.

"Good mornin', toots, I didn't wake ya, did I?" 

I tilted my head at him, unblinking. 

"Oh, not in the mood for conversation today, are ya? Look, I'm sorry about the peckin'. Would you prefer it if I pecked someone else's house? Just say the word, and I'm gone". I looked at Gary, his sharp beak pointed down, pretending to be ashamed. 

I puffed my chest up, deliberately showing off my beautiful plumage, and went to work on my nest. 

"Atta girl, y'know Ol' Gary is just doin' what comes natural. Speakin' a natural, what'cha buildin' the nest for? You expectin' some chicks?" Gary eyed me, between looking around for seeds.

"No, Gary, I am not. Not yet, anyway. Haven't seen the right dance yet. Nothing wrong with being prepared, though!"

He bellowed with chriping, unable to suppress it. "The right dan-well, you just say the word if you start gettin' the itch. Your buddy Gary'd be happy to oblige a nice dance er two. Welp, gotta jet, I think there's some nice peckin' wood few streets down. Adios, toots!" 

I ever-so-slightly lifted my right wing, as a dismissal. 

Gary flew off, on to his next house.

'Alright, Lola,' I thought to myself, 'Today is the day. Ronny's going to fly by any minute now to check for seeds, just play it cool'. I glanced all around my house, quickly, as I tend to do. I hopped over to the corner, where some molted feathers had gathered in an obscene pile. I plucked them up in my beak and without looking I tossed them out of the opening...right into Ronny's own feathery face.

"Pbtthh pff pff" Ronny was attempting to shake my feathers off his face.

Out of horror, I quickly pluck the rejected fluffy feathers from him, tossing them instead into the wind. Expecting him to show a sign of disgust, or not wanting to mate, I wordlessly hopped back into my house. Ronny hopped in after me, tilting his head each direction at me. 

"Early molter, huh?" Ronny asked with a glint in his beady eye. 

If I could blush, I'd be blushing. 

"Heh...yeah..I am. So sorry about that, I was just..cleaning.."

Brilliant response, Lola. Welp, you blew it, didn't you?

"Say, Lola, do you think I could ask you to meet me on the roof of your lovely house in a few days?"

What was he asking? It couldn't be...no, he couldn't possibly be planning a mating ritual...could he?

Act nonchalant. Be blase. 

"Yes, that'd be great!" BLASE DAMNIT! "Err, I mean...yes, I suppose I could be available. What do you have in mind?" 

He nipped at his fluffy chest. "Ah, you wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would you, Lola?"

He said my name!!

"I..I sure wouldn't, Ronny", sounding completely forced. Ah, well, you did the best you could. 

"See you then" and with that he was flapping in the wind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been days and days, what felt like years, since Ronny had stopped by her house. Of course, Gary had stopped by every single day. Gary, with his "toots" this and "toots" that, not to mention his complete lack of formality would simply not do for a mate. I will not stoop so low.

Now, that wasn't a fair thought. Gary is a perfectly fine male specimen, his plumage is nearly as desirable as any other male I've seen. But I just can't imagine hatching chicks and sharing a nest with him.

Interrupting my thoughts, probably for the better, I caught glimpse of bright blue feathers floating by the opening.

My already rapid heart sped up significantly.

I heard graceful talons land upon the roof of my house, knowing he was finally here.

I took a few deep breaths and groomed myself for good measure, then flew out to join him on the roof.

"Greetings, Lola". I nodded my head at him. Ronny opened his wings wide and fanned them out. He moved them back and forth several times. This is happening! This is actually happening!

As if to confirm the thoughts in my head, Ronny began the mating call portion of the dance, and I knew what I had to do! 

I joyfully flew back into my house, adjusting the nest, and signified my acceptance of his ritual.

Ronny and I now have 5 lovely chicks who are learning to fly as we speak. We've done it, Lola girl, we've done it!

The End.