I'm exiting WalMart, and the freighter raven is strutting near the entrance again. We've had dealings before. He'll respond when you speak to him. So I lean up against the the fakestone pillar and wait for an appropriate audience. it doesn't take long. She's about six, has curly hair and gummy worms, very christmassy and sophisticated, put together, fashion-wise. Soft brown eyes and wrinkled brow, suspicious.
"No. I didn't bring you anything."
Brrrup Brrrap.
"I know it's Christmas eve. and I knew you'd play that angle."
Burrup, Caarrrrrr.
"The best gift I could give you is nothing." I look away, "You're too fat as it is."
Brrack braack Burrup.
"Now that's just rude! I've lost three pounds."
Bbruk buk.
The little girl's mother called to her, but before she left, I got a dirty look, and the raven got two gummy worms; a red and a green.
"Merry Christmas!", I said to both, as they flitted away.
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