100 Days of Writing - 15
Janice took her dog Beatrice, a spunky 7 year old Maltese, for a walk one Saturday afternoon. It was January, and cold, so she was surprised to hear birds chirping in the distance.
She followed the joyful sounds along the street until they quieted down as she approached the evergreen tree they had gathered in. Beatrice, a naturally curious pup, sniffed out their presence and quieted down to assess.
For a city sidewalk, it was fairly quiet save for the random chirps coming from the little brown birds in the tree.
Janice stood there and admired the sounds as the chirping grew louder and louder.
"What the heck are they chirping about?" She wondered to herself.
There must have been two dozen brown chickadees having the gab of their life in that tree that Saturday afternoon. Each one sounded joyful and energized. Janice admired their beautiful song but was stumped. There were lots of trees on the street, so why had they chosen that one to hang out in? And what in heaven's name were they so excited about? Each bird seemed to have something to say, but about what?
It occurred to her that they must be feeling happy. And that maybe when you feel happy you sing!
"How nice," she said to Beatrice.
As she walked away, they quieted down. The chirping came to an abrupt stop. Suddenly she found herself wondering if they had been chirping about her this whole time?
"Yikes," she mumbled. "High school is getting to me."
As the distance from the birds grew, she could hear the chirping speed up. The chickadees were boisterous and lively once again, and Janice figured those precious birdies who had just filled her with childish inspiration were really just a bunch of gossiping assholes.
The End.
She followed the joyful sounds along the street until they quieted down as she approached the evergreen tree they had gathered in. Beatrice, a naturally curious pup, sniffed out their presence and quieted down to assess.
For a city sidewalk, it was fairly quiet save for the random chirps coming from the little brown birds in the tree.
Janice stood there and admired the sounds as the chirping grew louder and louder.
"What the heck are they chirping about?" She wondered to herself.
There must have been two dozen brown chickadees having the gab of their life in that tree that Saturday afternoon. Each one sounded joyful and energized. Janice admired their beautiful song but was stumped. There were lots of trees on the street, so why had they chosen that one to hang out in? And what in heaven's name were they so excited about? Each bird seemed to have something to say, but about what?
It occurred to her that they must be feeling happy. And that maybe when you feel happy you sing!
"How nice," she said to Beatrice.
As she walked away, they quieted down. The chirping came to an abrupt stop. Suddenly she found herself wondering if they had been chirping about her this whole time?
"Yikes," she mumbled. "High school is getting to me."
As the distance from the birds grew, she could hear the chirping speed up. The chickadees were boisterous and lively once again, and Janice figured those precious birdies who had just filled her with childish inspiration were really just a bunch of gossiping assholes.
The End.
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