So. My sister has been visiting from the United States. Last night, a few old 'friends' had decided to visit her at my parents house. Preparations - painstaking preparations, were made by most of my family members, myself included. Attention to detail was paramount, for guests are valued, but not often seen in my former dwelling. The house was cleaned, the dishes washed, the gravel in the driveway? Yes, raked, like the sands of a zen rock garden. The preparations having took some hours, had finally been finished. It was 7:00.
Fast forward twenty minutes. The 'guests' were late. There had been no phone calls. Had they both been involved in firey car accidents? Could they possibly be found snacking at a McDonalds together, laughing at our unknowingly vain attempts at hospitality?
As I was mulling over the many possibilities of why the 'guests' were late, I see this: A car, a black dirty car, badly damaged, and filled with boxes, shoes, and books, belching a noxious smoke from all orifices tries its hand at turning into the drive, from the highway at what may have very well been 195 miles per hour. Somehow, and with an eerie precision, it managed to wedge and parallel park itself into what were once prized flower beds, making the drive now look like the frozen wake of an angry gravel sea.
The smoke still hadn't cleared. What 'guest' of anyones could this possibly be? Had I just seen an accident?
Just then, the dirty and crumpled drivers side door opens a crack, and through the dust, I see something resembling a feathered chicken bum with only legs and a tail, scramble into the tattered remains of my mothers foliage, uttering nothing except what sounded like a muffled, gaseous 'cluck'. This chicken bum-thing was much too fast for me to persue, so I decided to investigate the dirty and still running library/shoe outlet of a car until the chicken bum-things return. It couldn't avoid me, it had no head to see, hear, or smell me!
Baffled, I turned my attention to the yawn of the cars interior, seen through the dust, but was wary of getting in. Surely, this chicken bum couldn't have been the one that had so expertly piloted this car into the greenery. Surely. Up to this time, I thought, chickens hadn't ever been able to drive cars, much less headless chicken bum-like creatures with legs and tails, had they?
Part 2 to follow shortly...