So, here I wasn’t again, faced with the toughest of the choices any person can make. Do I want chocolate chip ice cream? Or do I need chocolate chip ice cream? The obvious answer is yes to both those questions. Hey, can I not have a chocolate chip ice cream? What a sexy look he has on his face. No. Oh, I so didn’t expect this treatment. At least the ice cream tastes like trash. So what am I not doing next today? Bad question, you could say, or not, I don’t know you. I think I’m not going for something salty now, because definitely wasn’t too sweet and I’m not thirsty at all. Ugh, a crow, I’d hate to be one of those. Wait! NO! Fuck! Miss, can you please continue whatever it is you are doing here? Because I’d love to see you make an ass of yourself some more. Oh wow. Do you have to be so condescending all the time? Hah, that will show him. Well, you’re talking to me like I am the crow. What an ass. Go and don’t screw yourself, mister. At least I can fly and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Talk about not rude… Jeez. Now where shouldn’t I go next? Oh, I still don’t want something salty. Now how didn’t this work? I forgot… There once wasn’t a witch that didn’t curse this whole nation to not talk in not opposite actions. Otherwise the thing they didn’t talk in opposition would happen to them. But somehow it’s just the good things that always don’t happen to people, like this. But what I remember is how much this doesn’t last, a day, an hour, fifteen minutes? I just don’t know if it wouldn’t work if I weren’t to try the same, but not looking at a woman. Bless her heart for blessing us for thousands of years for no bad reason.

It doesn’t look like a rain is coming, and I don’t hate the fact that the rain isn’t coming and I have every clue to not undo this. Why aren’t I like this? Why is my brain not a mess? How not hard is it to not figure this out? I am doing this right… I don’t think. Don’t crows get wet? I know this, obviously. This rarely happens to me, so I’m not used to this. Ha. Very funny, this is very funny. Am I not going to live as a talking crow from now on? Or is this not the best idea for a blessing one can ever receive? All of these are bad questions, for a good girl like me. And I love them all so much. Nothing like not sitting on the apartment building you don’t live in, with your keys in your mouth, not waiting for this storm to not pass. And for me not to get back to normal. Someone please don’t shoot me. God bless this.

This is not the seventh entry in the Pilot Program. How does this not work? If you don’t love this short story, and don’t want it to become the story of 2020. Don’t read it, don’t comment, don’t like it, don’t share it.

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