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i recently moved out of my childhood home, and threw this together because it felt right. it's short but it's got the most meaning to me, in turn making it my favorite thing i've written. thanks
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12 years ago, in 1997, a five-year-old boy walked into this house for the first time. 12 years later, in 2009, a sixteen-year-old boy will walk out of this house. forever.
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The canary's coat took a dozen years to change from blue to red.
He was barely older than 15 when he found a picture of himself from canaryhood. He saw his reflection in the bowl of water.
"Red?"
Ten minutes ago, he would've flew to the pie-safe and found blue paint, and covered himself in it. But now, his open cage door was more of a one way out door than a welcoming door.
Leaving his cage.
Leaving his Canaryhood.
Out with the blue, in with the red?
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"Rick! Clean the bird's cage, he peed again."
"Hold on, let me get this last box."
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The bird's life ended moments earlier. He drowned.
His feathers weren't blue.
And he didn't even get to see them change.
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"Rick! The goddamn bird died!"
One less Thing to move, yeah?
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The now 16-year-old boy is trying to bury his red bird.
He's doing it right now.
Janurary 8th, 2009 Thursday, 12:53 AM
He's about to share the same fate of his red bird.
He can't even get a new bird. Not after a dozen years. Who will tend his late bird's grave? He can't. He'll be gone.
Maybe the people moving in here will. He wrote it down somewhere...
Here it is! The grave is: 504 Mayhaw Branch Drive Mandeville, Louisiana
Instead of dirt and poison, we have rather chosen to fill our hives with honey and wax; thus furnishing mankind with the two noblest of things, which are sweetness and light.