May 27, 2013
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The Bird of Hope despaired. The trash can overflowed. It was Monday. Garbage collection took place each Thursday. What to do. What to do. The Bird of Hope considered a variety of options and discarded all of them with a frustrated stamp of foot. Pacing back, and then forth, the Bird of Hope desperately flailed internally for a plan.

‘What’s up, friend?’ queried a passing robot.

‘Look. The trash. Isn’t it obvious? Geez,’ snarled the Bird of Hope.

‘Oh, trash. Overflowing, is it?’ commented the robot.

The Bird of hope rolled its eyes and withheld comment.

The robot clanked over to the trash, ate it, licked the can to sparkle clean with its rotating scour tongue, belched echo metallically, and moved on, leaving the Bird of Hope posed frozen, beak agape.

After a proper interval of time had passed, the Bird of Hope went to work, arriving some ten minutes late and saying ‘Don’t even ask’ to his secretary when he passed her to enter his office. The efficient secretary winked in collusion with the grinning robot outside her window.

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