I took my bicycle out for a ride last night. I decided to stop for a quick errand. While I normally lock my bicycle onto the closest secure structure, once through the front wheel and once through the frame, last night I decided not to. In hindside, this could have been an idiotic idea, but it was also an idea with principle. I shouldn’t have to lock my bicycle up, therefore I did not. Surprisingly, I wasn’t all too worried about losing my bicycle last night. I knew in the back of my head, if it wanted to leave, it would. I’m sure it enjoyed its freedom last night. Traveling the street quickly, unsupervised, feeling the adrenaline on its race against the clock, counting down the seconds until it needed to be back for my return. I was away for 30 minutes. That’s plenty of time to cover at least 6 miles for an experienced city bicycle. I’d like to ask it where it went. I wonder if my presence on the bicycle limits it in any way, or fatigues it or keeps pace perfectly. I imagine my bicycle is a quick roadster that tears by cars on the street, hopping curbs and drifting into stops. I’m sure that the adventure it partook in was quite exciting.

When I returned back to its location, I was relieved to see it positioned in the same stance on the structure I had left it. for a fleeting moment, I thought I noticed a grin on its face. I grinned back. Never will I be locking my bicycle up again. I revel in the mystery of its freedom.

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Penguins have gotten so good at winning lotteries that they are no longer allowed to purchase tickets due to bill 4327A being passed last week. Rep. John Green and his community members had become so fed up with the penguins winning the lottery in their area that they decided it was time to crack down. Somehow they had figured out a strategy that allowed them to pick the correct ticket not just often, but every – single – time, for the last five months. Every lottery pull in the last 5 months had been won by a penguin. The stats behind that are just impossible, it should not be able to be done. John Green decided enough was enough, and a law was passed that made it illegal for any penguin to enter into an establishment selling lottery tickets, and also revoked all penguins’ ID’s and licenses, making it impossible for them to purchase a lottery tickets or collect any prize money. John was excited to get back to purchasing lottery tickets with the same hopeful attitude participants had shared before the penguin crisis.

I had just started to feel full. After five slices of pizza, I didn’t think I could eat any more. I asked my friend if he wanted to eat my remaining 3 slices. Thankfully, he was happy to. I didn’t want to see any slices go to waste, especially from such a delicious pie. When I originally offered him the pizza, it didn’t even cross my mind how he would go about eating it. The slices were almost the size of him, if not larger. He did struggle for a moment getting a good grip, but eventually he laid the slice out on his extended wing and let gravity do the work as he nibbled it down while it slid towards his beak. He downed the slices of pizza faster than any human I had ever seen. If anything could eat pizza fast, who would have thought it would be a pigeon?

The boy cried wolf. The wolf came very quickly after being called.

From the young age of four, he had always known what he was destined to become. With a personality like his, there was only one path that seemed viable throughout his life. As he entered his teens his determination was still unwavering. He was as serious about taking on this career as any doctor or lawyer had been when preparing for school. He spent all of his free time studying, practicing, and preparing his mental fortitude for his training ahead of him. He knew it would take grit, and he had it. He knew it would take serious dedication, and he had it. He knew this was a serious matter, and he was as serious as could be. Finally, he reached the age of 18 and was able to enroll in the school that would allow him to achieve his dreams. He left home for clown college and never looked back. He was destined to become the greatest clowner the world had ever seen.

He looked to his left. He saw nothing but the looming cypress trees that acted as the impenetrable barrier towards that side of the camp. They must have been planted several thousand years ago. The trunks grew to four times the size of any standard tree. They grew in such close proximity to that the next, it was almost as if their roots were bonded underground, forming a connecting knit layer that pulled the trees into close quarters. While there was room to walk between the trees on that side of the camp, it would not resemble a reasonable stroll. It would be closer to a hike or a navigation. One could not simply do it with their eyes closed. He felt a certain comfort in this, taking their whimsical branches as a symbol of security and solitary. The let out a sigh. This was peace he had been after for so long.

He then looked to his right. As he was taking in the beauty of the natural beasts of his left, the line quickly lengthened behind him. He was quickly edged out by the crowd, another human filling in to take his place.

He closed his eyes. Finally, he could see. He had felt blind his whole life, trying to see with his eyes open. Not even once had he thought to attempt to close his eyes. The difference was magical. This type of seeing was different though. He could no longer see people, places, or things around him, but he could see versions of these things when their eyes were closed as well. They were slightly difficult to make out at first, because he was not used to seeing things without light or easily identifiable shapes. He now how to train himself to see vague indeterminant beings with no characteristics or signature features. Why his sense of smell and taste were helpful at times, this new realm he entered required a completely new sense he had never dealt with before. This new sense was his “plith”. It helped him interact with other non-seeing beings in the closed realm. Now, he walks around and goes through life with his eyes closed. He likes to see life better this way.

A fish can ask for nothing more than a smaller bowl. Consistently, fish are upset that the bowl they reside in is too large. They don’t know how to properly make use of the space. The fish know that, as single bachelors, it is unresponsible to have an much space as they do to themselves. It requires more water, more upkeep, more decorations, overall more materials to maintain. The carbon footprint of a fish in a large bowl is much greater than it needs to be. Fish are very conscientious of this. A fish knows when he owns too much land, and they are more than willing to give it up, the logistics just prove too difficult to downsize often. Fish are commendable creatures that really want to make a difference by reducing their carbon footprint and living a simpler, less obtrusive life.