Down the road, there is this liquor store that always changes ownership. With its latest change in hands, this monstrous and ridiculous blow-up gorilla has been advertising for at least a month. Every time I pass, I can’t stop thinking about how strange it is and how it would never make me want to buy anything from that store.
Over the period of one year, it seemed like I could never get away from dead birds. They were everywhere.
On the ground, two wings lay flattened in the sun, black and two feet apart—no body between. The body had been smashed, rolled over by a pitiless tire and obliterated; but the wings were left behind to create a great space separating the disembodied extremities on the hot pavement.