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October 11, 2006

Jim: It's A Bird

When the weather’s nice, the orderlies take us down to the yard. We walk on the grass, touch the trees and smell the flowers, all comfy and secure within the high wire fence.

“Aliens!” screamed Ms. Simms, pointing at the sky. Again.

As an orderly rushed over to sedate her, I followed the path of her finger.

A winged shape circled in the crystal blue sky, wheeling larger and larger.

It bounced a few times on landing, waddling to a stop at my feet.

“Nice bathrobe, Fred,” quacked the green-headed duck.

“I thought I was done with you,” I sighed.

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