Monthly Archives: March 2015

Inevitable

From the Mind of Muggington, nature is awe inspiring, nature is awesome,

I see the osprey on the wire. The sunlight bounces off the white sheet of snow that covers the yard. Its head turns from side to side. I grab my binoculars and focus on it. I jump back as it stares at me. I’m certain it knows I am watching.

The bird flies across the street in front of the neighbor’s house. It perches on a power line. It waits. I wait.

Oh no, I see a plump gray squirrel come out of its nest of leaves. The squirrel freezes on the trunk of the big maple tree. The osprey is motionless on the wire. Approximately fifty feet separate the two. I know that they see each other.

The three of us wait together. Minutes go by and none of us move. Finally the squirrel moves its head to one side. Its body remains still on the tree trunk. The osprey doesn’t move.

The squirrel crawls down a few inches. It knows that if the osprey takes flight it will have time to run back into a hole. The osprey doesn’t move. I am holding my breath. My eyes can’t look elsewhere. I don’t want to watch but I do.

The squirrel begins to move down the tree. It makes a decision. It begins to run. The squirrel is crossing the street. I think it is going to make it. It runs under the white picket fence.

I see the flap of wings. The osprey swoops into my front yard. The squirrel has no chance. In an almost lazy way the bird’s talons grasp the squirrel. The osprey spreads its wings wide and I can see it pushing the soft body of the squirrel into the snow.

I can’t move even though I want to. It seems like forever. The head of the osprey swivels as it continues to press down on its prey. Five minutes have passed.

Suddenly the osprey lifts off. It soars across the street into the park. I see the limp body of the squirrel dangling from the bird’s talons.

Duty

From the Mind of Muggington,

I hate this job. I’ve worked in Penn Station for three years. I clean the bathrooms.

I push my plastic cart in front of the men’s room entrance. I grab the mob and enter. Men are lined up waiting for an empty urinal. The floor is wet and filthy.

A homeless guy is washing in the sink near the door. His garbage bag is half blocking the door. I squeeze into the room and go to the back  near the stalls.

I hear a scream from one of the stalls. I mop the floor trying to ignore it. Crazy guys get in the stalls and attack each other. The cops ignore them. I continue to mop.

I wonder who designed this place. The water barely comes out of the taps and there is never any soap. Most guys give up and don’t wash their hands. God help us if a disease ever gets in here.

I finish mopping the floor and it is already dirty again. I go outside and gulp in the fresh air.

I hate my job.

The True Story of the White Spots on Ceres

From the Mind of Muggington

“Hurry,”  the One said. “We have three more Earth days. We must have the shields in place by then.” Biobots swarmed the two major life collections on the planet.

“All life forms should enter the bunkers at this time,” the One said. “Our survival depends on avoiding detection. As we suspected the spacecraft will take up orbit. ”

The biobots did an incredible job. Rocky ice now covered everything.  “With what we know of Earth’s technology at this time they will never be able to detect our presence,” the One said.

Below the planet’s surface the deliberations began. “We knew they would come,” Lifeform A said. “Yes, their greed knows no bounds,” Lifeform B said. “I propose a first strike,” Lifeform A said. “They are too close.” The other lifeforms assented and relayed their decision to the One.

“Agreed,” the One said. “We shall wait until they have weakened themselves. It is only a matter of time before their squabbling results in nuclear war. Eradication will be a simple matter.”