263. The magpie


Vincent stared out the window. There was a magpie on the lawn, walking here and there, looking for food, pecking at this and that. Poor thing! It would spend every hour of the day looking for food in order to survive; a beetle here, a few ants there. Perhaps, on a lucky day, the magpie might find a dead frog. What a feast!

Vincent yawned. “What a terrible life it must have; looking, looking, looking for food all day. Was there no more to life? Even in the breeding season its thoughts would be on nothing but food.”

Yes, poor thing, thought Vincent as he got out of his chair and went to the kitchen. There was just enough time to squeeze in another cup of coffee before lunch.

This is the Chattanooga Choo chew the fat chat

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