Giggling Softly, Smiling Big

Giggling Softly, Smiling Big

Whenever I see a torn up mass of feathers and blood on the road I always wonder what happened to the bird. Did it get hit by a car? Hunted by a predator? It feels like a waste of life just to become a pile of mashed up bones that eventually ooze into the soft pavement. Mickey’s dog Ace found three baby birds by the train tracks when we were taking her for a walk the other day. I don’t know why we walk over there anyway. The trains barrel through these dry dusty coastal towns blowing their horns so everyone knows they’re coming. At dusk it's hard to see, so the drivers honk extra hard to make sure no one...