Imaginary Life

Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book Imaginary Life by Gooding, Trafford Publishing
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Author: Gooding ISBN: 9781490764351
Publisher: Trafford Publishing Publication: August 21, 2015
Imprint: Trafford Publishing Language: English
Author: Gooding
ISBN: 9781490764351
Publisher: Trafford Publishing
Publication: August 21, 2015
Imprint: Trafford Publishing
Language: English

They were scattered all around that squalid, filthy place, their feathered corpses splayed or huddled in a thousand different attitudes of inglorious decease. Or so it seemed to Duffy, anyway. In fact, there probably werent more than a dozen of the scruffy little wretches littering the plant at any given time. But they were there, all right; Ill grant that much. I saw them too, and so, Im sure, did everybody else. You never knew when you might round a pillar or a post and nearly stumble on one of the fat little lumps or, in some cases, cross paths with one that was still hobbling along in an agonized quest for relative privacy, a place to die in peace. One morning I opened the door to the john, and there was one of them lying on the floor by the trash can. It appeared to have nosed its way into the corner between the trash can and the block wallas far removed from the madness of life as it could get under the circumstances. Then it had tucked its beak down into its breast and expired. I dont know how the hell it got inside the john.

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They were scattered all around that squalid, filthy place, their feathered corpses splayed or huddled in a thousand different attitudes of inglorious decease. Or so it seemed to Duffy, anyway. In fact, there probably werent more than a dozen of the scruffy little wretches littering the plant at any given time. But they were there, all right; Ill grant that much. I saw them too, and so, Im sure, did everybody else. You never knew when you might round a pillar or a post and nearly stumble on one of the fat little lumps or, in some cases, cross paths with one that was still hobbling along in an agonized quest for relative privacy, a place to die in peace. One morning I opened the door to the john, and there was one of them lying on the floor by the trash can. It appeared to have nosed its way into the corner between the trash can and the block wallas far removed from the madness of life as it could get under the circumstances. Then it had tucked its beak down into its breast and expired. I dont know how the hell it got inside the john.

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