nice hairdo
he’s the mad professor of the seagulls. lying peacefully in the sand, reading a trashy book (the only kind to read on the beach), i sip some water, read some more, wiggle my toes, then reach for a snack. before i even pull said snack from the bag an entire flock of bad hairdo seagulls descends, screeching, demanding food. my hand emerges from the bag empty. i will not risk losing a limb for a cookie. i shall remain hungry.