Roadkill
She hasn’t been right since she hit the pheasant. It was a sign, she says. Of what, she doesn’t know, but it was definitely a sign. She worries about the lack of trees, about plastic in the oceans, about not waking up in the morning. She refuses to drive now. She closes her eyes and hums every time we pass a squashed rabbit or mangled fox. She grabs my knee, digs her claw nails deep into my flesh. It’s all just blood and guts and fur, she cries. Another pheasant, baking in the early evening sun. A badger, still twitching.
Photo Credit: Miguel Tejada-Flores
Absolutely wonderful visuals – as much as they made me cringe!
Thanks for reading, Janice.
This is quite wonderful. Thank you for this brief tour through roadkill and its consequences.
Thanks for reading, Eric.
well done, I like this has a lot of unknown meaning, engages the reader.
Thank you, Sian!
Really good read.
Thanks Melissa – glad you enjoyed it.
Very good.
So good, in fact, that one of my sophomore students copied it verbatim and handed it in as his own.
As I scanned it, I laughed at the intro, and said to myself, “This is GOOD!” I kept reading. “This is VERY good.” I hit the twitching badger ending. “This is very, very … um … ah, heck, this is too good.”
A quick Google search later and … voila, Gary Duncan.
My student got a zero, a call to mom, and a lack of trust forever from me, too, but, hey, at least he had good taste!
Ha! I’m flattered – I think! That’s a first for me. He didn’t even change a few words? You might want to let him know there’s this thing called the internet and you really can’t get away with that kind of thing now. Thanks for the feedback!
Great read, love reading these.
Thanks, Reece. Glad you enjoyed it!
So good!
“She closes her eyes and hums every time … .”
Thanks for reading, Tony!