Dear Little Bird
My Roadside Companion

Dear Little Bird,
I can hardly speak of your beauty: your thick fisty body and firm upward tail. You have been a gorgeous sight to behold since the first time I saw you.
I can remember the moment as if it were just this morning. I was just a child, barely yet conceived. I was wild, unruly, running around in a free-range state. There you were, brazen and in my face, in the arms of a teenage girl.
It wouldn’t be long before I made you mine.
We’ve had other good times. I remember that time a girl cut us off at the gas station. She pulled up to the nearest pump and stopped. She could’ve pulled forward to the second pump, she knew we were behind, but she just stopped. It forced us to reverse, pull out of the station, and into the corner entrance. We were facing her at the second pump.
She didn’t say sorry. Instead, she said, “I didn’t pull forward because the last time I did someone got upset with me and flipped me off.”
She didn’t even know you were there. Casually, politely, you appeared by my side.
I’ll forever be grateful for the kindness and compassion you offer me. Like that time that I broke my middle finger trying to catch a ground ball during a softball game. You stuck by my side the entire six weeks I was in a cast; finger prostrate.
Of course it hasn’t always been good times. You nearly showed yourself to a coworker on the way to the office once. Even though it would’ve been justified, I appreciate that you kept my home and office life separated.
I also caught you cheating that time that a cyclist ran a red light right in front of me, as they flew by, barely escaping my front bumper. There you were with him. It was a dark, hurtful, day.
But you always find your way back to me. Whether on or off the road, we are truly always together. Be it the soccer moms who don't know how to use a round-about, the over-compensating bros who need to drive their massive trucks down two lanes, the lover who ate my leftovers, and the best friend who only knows how to greet me with, you.
You are reliable to the end. Sometimes, just sometimes, when we can't handle things on our own, you bring your identical twin. That's right, there are two of you. The mischievous fun the three of us can get in. Forbidden pleasures. Your twin is the same through and through, taking over your purpose when you are busy with the wheel, holding a drive-thru breakfast burrito, or after a long day of regular use.
I will always be yours and I know you will always be mine.
Always and forever,
Beyond time and space,
Your love,
Road Rage
About the Creator
Amos Glade
Welcome to Pteetneet City & my World of Weird. Here you'll find stories of the bizarre, horror, & magic realism as well as a steaming pile of poetry. Thank you for reading.
For more madness check out my website: https://www.amosglade.com/
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