Unserious postmodern paintings.

The barbet had been promoted to Junior Archivist three weeks prior, a distinction marked only by the stool and the lamp. It…

The budgerigar had been promoted to Junior Compliance Officer three weeks prior, though no one remembered interviewing it. It stared at the…

The redpoll had been famous for exactly seventeen minutes after a local news segment mistakenly identified it as a rare Arctic variant…

The taipan had spent the morning practicing humility in front of the mirror, then decided to extend the exercise to the living…

The cod had stopped being ironic three Tuesdays ago. No one had said anything, but the silence in the kitchen had changed…

The bee arrived precisely three minutes and seventeen seconds after the scheduled pollination ceremony, having misread the floral invitation’s RSVP deadline due…

The jackdaw had been told the attic was mildly haunted, so it came to check. It found no ghosts, only a forgotten…

The crow had been waiting for the vent to be fixed for three days. It didn’t complain—crows don’t—but it did notice how…

The pigeon had been invited, not as a guest but as a motif—this season’s emblem of urban decadence. It had spent three…

The guppy had once been proudly analog, darting through real water with purpose. Then came the update—a patch, they said, to improve…

The tern had been there since Tuesday. Or perhaps since the Cretaceous. It did not blink, did not preen, did not acknowledge…

The sardine had been famous for exactly seventeen minutes after a local food blogger mistook it for a rare deep-sea variant and…