Member-only story
Working at the Owl Factory
Just Another Monday…
I thought I would fit in
at the Owl Factory
assembling the multi-colored
felt owls
matching their personalities
to beady sets of eyes.
Even the creepy guy
next to me
wasn’t much of a bother
at first…
his smirking critiques
fell off my sallow skin
as if it were waterproof,
hateproof.
“Owls aren’t that great, you know
birds of prey
kill small animals.
Pink flamingos, now that’s where
you want to be.
Oh look, your eye,
is just hanging there….”
He couldn’t shut up
I was hoping they would move him
to crows,
but I knew
he wasn’t smart enough
for blackbirds.
I wanted to stay at my post
knee-deep in multi-colored
owl parts.
“Really?” Creep said.
“There’s no retirement
or health insurance
in bird décor
so truly
the best hope
of moving past places
of sirens and city grumble
is to grab hold
of the pink flamingos
and maybe
headquarters will consider you
for marketing.”
