I walk on the curb of the sidewalk one foot in front of the other as not to lose my balance. The blue judens would never let me forget it if my foot were to slip; I shudder at the mere thought of the repercussions.
The sun beats down on the pavement and I can already feel the left side of my face getting a reddening tan - I guess I'll be half Floridian and half . . . whatever it is I am. I was contemplating why the sun was so nervous (he always shines hard when his anxiety flares) when I rounded the curve right smack dab into a palm tree's shadow and fell to the ground clutching my injured nose.
I could hear the not-so-well-muffled snickers from the blue judens in the distance and when I looked over, sure enough they were huddled with their oxford blue claws covering their laughing mouths.
Great, I thought, I just stumbled myself into a month's worth of snide sniggers and carping cackles!
Good thing they can't speak, I'd never hear the end of it.
I haul myself off the concrete and hastily make my way to the nearest door to go inside before they could come flapping over. There's nothing I dread more than the feathery leathery wings of a blue juden. It must perpetually be molting season because they always seem to lose a good percentage of their plumage with every flap - and don't even get me started on the smell!
