Unserious postmodern paintings.

The conch had been a decoration for years, ignored until the new tenant, a former telemarketer with a fondness for bureaucratic irony,…

The blackbuck had been told the ventilation was ‘adequate for contemplation.’ It believed them. For three days it stood, ears twitching at…

The coati had come to the study not for shelter, but for silence. It had read three pages of Kant before the…

The gallinule had been told the pier was collapsing, but it had also been told the water was rising, and so it…

The razorbill had been waiting for the postman since Tuesday. It remembered the exact shade of blue on the ribbon from the…

The tody had arrived exactly three seconds before the clock struck eight, as it did every morning, and would remain perfectly still…

The seahorse had been left behind during the last tide, slowly absorbing attic air until it forgot how to swim. It now…

The terrapin had promised to arrive by eight, but the tide was against him, and the tailor insisted on three fittings for…

The sprat had spent the morning contemplating the nature of wetness, concluding that dampness was not a state but a conversation between…

The termite had not eaten wood in seventeen days. Instead, it refreshed the same forum thread every forty-two seconds, waiting for a…

It had been three days since the last experiment. The woodlouse, designated Subject 7-Gamma, had stopped responding to stimuli. Not dead, not…

The galah had stopped trying to be funny years ago. It still wore the colours of irony like a second skin, but…