Flea Chronicles Pt. 3

Larn Says

This morning has been exceptionally special. And by special, I mean particularly asinine.
It wasn’t until I had been in the screened in room, exposed to the elements for longer than I felt necessary, that I was struck by a bubble of hysteria–deep inside.
It came out of nowhere.

There I was, dozing in my chair, enjoying the pitiful twitters from the flying creatures…when it happened. All the sudden, the flying creatures dive-bombed the frail and delicate film separating me from the outdoors. There were at least a thousand. All chirping and carrying on incessantly.

I tried to escape inside, but I realized I had been locked…out. Mom number 5 had…forgotten about me.
Forgotten…and then closed the door….and left.

I knew no one was in the shelter because they didn’t immediately come when I demanded. I was utterly alone. Unless you include the hoard of flying animals, then I was incredibly out numbered.

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