Unserious postmodern paintings.

The pronghorn had practiced politeness for seventeen years, rehearsing bows in front of cracked mirrors made of desert glass. Today, it offered…

The remora had been told it was affordable, so it stayed. It had tried to attach to sharks, but they kept swimming…

The goat had been promoted last Tuesday, though no one could recall applying for the position. It arrived each morning at 8:15,…

The armadillo had not meant to keep the photo. It was meant to be tossed with the rest — the ticket stubs,…

The gnu had come to the bathroom not to wash, but to think. It had spent three days pondering whether its horns…

The friarbird had been waiting for the kettle to whistle for seventeen minutes. It did not mind the wait. It had learned,…

The bowerbird had spent three weeks gathering the finest refuse the neighborhood had to offer—each item chosen not for beauty, but for…

The fantail had been declared provisionally heroic by the town’s committee of minor virtues after it allegedly diverted a falling spoon from…

The trogon had been invited to tea by the Countess, who admired its sense of drape. It arrived punctually, perched as instructed,…

The oropendola had been declared 'extremely unofficial' by the Ministry of Avian Affairs after failing to file Form 7B-δ for seasonal nesting…

The tinkerbird had not sung in seventeen years, not since the last watchmaker who understood its inner gears retired to the coast.…

The brant had been haunting the room for three weeks, not with moans or cold spots, but by repeatedly rearranging the socks…