bird of a different feather

"I was broken when I met you."

That's what he told me.

No. He was more like this magnificent, rare orange bird I found thrifting. Turned on it's side, under a bunch of junk and just odd enough that it hadn't attracted any attention on the shelf yet.

I grabbed it as soon as I saw it. Something that didn't belong just anywhere. Fragile. It looked like the sort of thing that should be in a pair, but I searched the whole store and couldn't find a mate.

I carefully checked it over, looking for flaws. I found the teeniest place where a fleck of gold was gone, missing a bit of luster and brightness, but other than that, perfect. Not broken at all.

1 comment:

Faith said...

I love this because it's so true. If you just glance at our family, we're a bunch of cracked nuts, but when you get to know us, we make perfect sense together! I really enjoy your writing. Feel free to stop by my blog and say hi! Have a blessed day. =)