"...it will be landing on Tuesday night, not Thursday" I said as the line was breaking. "Heathrow... Yes". After 12 years I was going to visit Pegah, the girl I longed for hungrily . In highschool we were acquaintances at best, though I wanted to be something more. I knew I would never be able to kiss Pegah on my own, so I joined theater. She was the lead, I had a small role as an alcoholic parakeet. I instantly got into the character and decided to dye my hair green and eat nothing but sunflower seeds. To hell with kissing Pegah! They were nothing when compared to my new life as a parakeet! Truly, my role both in life and in this play was the one of a small, seed-eating bird! I was so far into my new role that I could no longer speak or think in English. I can write in English, as you can see, but my canary brain does not understand what I am writing. How am I writing, then? You see me writing, though, don't you? Aw, it doesn't really matter. Whatever I write will be art. What? That look on your face tells me you don't believe canaries can paint, either! "No, I know canaries can paint because I used to be the greatest canary artist, Rich N. Stein. That was before the Witness Protection Program. Dammit! I did it again. Best if you f find the second best Canary artist. Jon E. Rotten. He's not so good but may be able to help. Painting canaries isn't the easiest job in the world you know.. we need patience and earplugs in order to deal with the incessant chirping of our canary models. I wish they would learn how to Tweet, that would keep them quiet. Jon and I painted for days, hoping to Entertain and enlighten all creatures, including canaries. The birds joined us in our mural, putting final touches on the platform at the railway station. We made the evening news!



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