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The End

Mist clung to me on the first day of Autumn. The moist air still slightly smelled of the sea. I looked down and saw the stones that covered a make-shift parking lot near my office become the rocky beach near Lake Ontario at a Girl Scout Camp I went to as a kid. A calm, gray swath of water and sky spread out before me as I took careful aim before letting a smooth stone skip over the surface.

A gaggle of Canadian Geese heading south for the winter flew overhead, honking louder and louder. The honking seems to reach a feverish pitch until the birds begin to squeal and I'm suddenly lying flat on my back. Something has hit me with great force. I realize for a moment before slipping away that my daydream has caused me to walk into traffic, where a DPW truck has brought me to my end.

Author's Note: 2nd paragraph is fiction. Duh.


battlemaiden said…
I almost sprayed my heavily-caffeinated English Breakfast Tea all over my computer monitor.
Pamela said…
A gaggle of Canadian Geese heading south for the winter flew overhead, honking louder and louder.

This happened to me yesterday, while I was driving. Then they all shit on my van.

True story.
Mr. Social said…
this is good.

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