16 -- Chancing It

NOTE: This blog is a continuing dialog between the two faces of rilla. The identity crisis is explained (if such a thing is possible) in the first edition. Click here to read: 1 -- Introduction

rilla: Hey, what’s the matter? Never see you look unhappy.
Rilla: It’s nothing. I’m not the unhappy type.
rilla: Ah…unlike me, huh?
Rilla: Yeah, just because of some little bird… doesn’t mean…no…I never get down. Not my style.
rilla: Little bird?
Rilla: Don’t tell me you walk around with your eyes shut. Sorry, that’s right. You do walk around with your eyes shut...always lost in your la-la land of fantasy and imagination.
rilla: Little bird?
Rilla: Yeah! The nest outside the back door…it has four little baby birds in it…
rilla: Four? There were only three when I looked…oh…now I get it…that little bird. What happened?
Rilla: The nest was too small for four babies. They were climbing all over each other. And when they started flapping their fledgling wings, I guessed it was only a matter of time before one got thrown out.
rilla: Onto the patio…
Rilla: That’s right. It looked pretty strong. I thought it would make it…
rilla: The last little tyke that fledged too early and fell onto the patio made it…it took three days, but it made it. I noticed how you kept the cats in the whole time until they were tearing up the carpet…
Rilla: Yeah, but the mama bird kept feeding it…it was the only one in its batch.
rilla: So the mama stopped feeding this little one. You can’t really blame her. Three in the nest, one on the floor, limited amount of energy…she had her hands, I mean wings, full just feeding the ones in the nest, I guess. Stop looking so glum. There’s nothing you could have done.
Rilla: No? I could have picked it up and put it back into the nest…
rilla: Don’t be silly. It would have just been pushed out again and gotten hurt and traumatized all over.
Rilla: Well, now it’s dead…
rilla: Yes.
Rilla: Life’s such a lottery.
rilla: Yes.
Rilla: I mean…one day there are four up there…the next…well, who decides which one of them is going to survive, make it to adulthood and which one gets chucked out of the nest by mistake. Oops, got too near the edge there, out you go dearie. Another one bites the pavement.
rilla: Contemplative…hmm…it’s not often I see you so…
Rilla: Should I have tried to save it?
rilla: You did what you could…you kept the cats indoors to give it a chance…
Rilla: I didn’t expect the mother to stop feeding it. The tyke must have starved through the night…
rilla: Maybe it got hurt in the fall too.
Rilla: Life’s such a lottery.
rilla: Good grief. You already said that. Sometimes you win the lottery and then it’s not so bad…
Rilla: I never win the lottery, I never win anything.
rilla: I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about Sha-do and Fog-gi. Who knows how many little kittens get thrown out onto the street when people can’t find homes for them, couldn’t be bothered having their cats neutered in the first place and can’t face taking them to a shelter. Sha-do and Fog-gi could have been run over by a car, eaten by a coyote, put to sleep by the pound, mauled by a bigger cat…the list goes on…but no, you took them in and gave them a home and a life and now look at them…they won the lottery. You can’t save everyone out there. But that doesn’t mean you give up either. You do what you can.
Rilla: So what about you? Any good news from your publishing lottery?
rilla: No. I’m like you…never win anything.
Rilla: You heard the one about the guy who begged God to let him win the lottery, just once, God, he said. I’ll do anything for you after.
rilla: Sold his soul for the lottery?
Rilla: Anyway, he got the heavenly nod and he waited…
rilla: Heavenly nod? How does one go about…
Rilla: …and he waited. Several days passed. Several lottery winners were announced. Nothing for this guy. Finally, he gets upset. What am I doing wrong, God? You said I’d win the lottery, how long must I wait? He shakes his puny fist up at the heavens.
rilla: Delusional…
Rilla: So, God looks down from the sky…
rilla: Through the clouds?
Rilla: It was a sunny day. So, God looks down from the sky…do me a favor he says…BUY A LOTTERY TICKET! Hey, hey, that was a joke, supposed to be funny, ha ha ha, funny, where are you taking off to in such a hurry.
rilla: You reminded me…I need to buy that ticket…
Rilla: Ticket? I didn’t know you bought lottery tickets?
rilla: Who needs to enter the lottery when all of life is a gamble? No. I’m off to send out my manuscripts to more places… my only shot at a chance of success in the game of publication. No point in burying them under the hibiscus with that poor little bird. They’re not dead yet…

Post a Comment
Next Post
Previous Post
Back to TOP