Taking the garbage out with Ivette, our attention turned to the giant tree next door. A cacophony of bird calls resounded from the leaves.
Ivette mused, "They must be having an annual meeting."
We stood barefoot on the cement a moment longer.
"Nah, I think it's an uprising." I concluded.
We returned to our chores, putting from our minds the possible oppression and tyrannical rule of the hollow boned creatures as soon as we stepped through the door, back to our own scent.
Those bipeds are always up to something.
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