Unserious postmodern paintings.

Every morning at precisely 7:03, the bobcat arrived, sat down, and waited — not for anything in particular, but because that was…

The swallow had been sold at a garage sale for three dollars, labeled 'tragically affordable' by the previous owner who claimed it…

The badger had been expecting the explosion. Not the one from the toaster — that was merely a miscalculation — but the…

For exactly seventeen minutes, the cisticola was the most famous bird in the village, not for its song or plumage, but because…

The bobwhite had been asked, earlier that day, whether the rain would come. It blinked slowly and said, 'Probably.' The farmer, expecting…

The auk had been waiting for three days. Not for food, not for escape, but for the moment the ceiling would finally…

The shearwater had not flown in three weeks. It had tried, once, to migrate south, but the Wi-Fi signal faded over the…

It had been three days since the ventilation failed and the sea cucumber stopped pretending it belonged anywhere. No one came to…

The red panda had been told, years ago, that sincerity was a virtue worth cultivating. It had taken the advice literally. Now,…

The lion had been contemplating the dampness of existence for three hours when the tea went cold. It did not sigh, nor…

The cassowary had been promoted to Senior Data Analyst three weeks ago, though no one remembered interviewing it. It arrived each morning…

The frigatebird had been waiting for the monthly economic indicator release, which it believed would trigger its mating display. When the data…