I’m finding it hard to come up with new and interesting things to write for NaBloPoMo. Not that every post has to be fascinating per se, but I don’t want to start blathering for NaBloPoMo’s sake. So now I will tell you a story.
My senior year of college, I lived with Elizabeth in an apartment off campus. We lived on the first floor, and the apartments had open air walkways, so our front door was outside. We came home one day to find a small black thing in the corner next to our front door.
It was maybe six inches in diameter. It was obviously some sort of animal, but we couldn’t tell what. We couldn’t see any feet or even a head. It was bizarre.
We thought it was a gremlin. Like, in the movie “Gremlins.” I know, it makes no sense. But it was just a ball of black, with no head or feet! In the twilight, we couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but since it was right next to our front door, we couldn’t go inside in case it followed us in. And then we be trapped with a small, possibly evil, black ball.
So we decided to throw something at it, to make it move and go away. We didn’t want to throw a rock, because we didn’t want to hurt it really. It hadn’t done anything to us (besides lurking creepily outside our door). I searched my purse and found some Mentos.
So we threw Mentos at it. Didn’t do much good. The ball got fluffier and angrier-looking. Our downstairs neighbor came down and after inspecting the ball, figured out it was an injured baby bird. A bird! We did not think of that. We went straight for Gremlin. He picked it up using a plastic bag and put it in some bushes.
So that’s the story of how I threw Mentos at an injured baby bird. That was going to be the title of this entry, but that would have given it all away, wouldn’t it?