The Nanotech Plague Of 3218 Was One Of The Most Devastating Grey Goo Incidents Of The Common Eras Fourth

The Nanotech plague of 3218 was one of the most devastating “grey goo” incidents of the common era’s fourth millennium. Unlike the nanotech plague of 3047 which merely transformed many North American trees into shining metal statues, the 3218 plague afflicted a large population of birds in Oceania and Southeast Asia. Above, a Spoonbill is rendered by the errant nanotechnology into a variety of machine parts and utensils in a cruelly ironic twist on it’s name.

no bird today

still recovering from burial ceremony for a friend of mine and general social hangover

as apology have this happy kale runt that i felt enough pity for when i was thinning them a month back that i made an impromptu hydroponic growing container out of an iced tea bottle.

The line goes quiet.

You pull the phone away from your head to make sure it didn’t disconnect, which causes you to miss the first part of the Oriole’s response.

“-want me to do with this information. It doesn’t really change anything, does it?”

“I mean, not really,” you hesitate, “I just... I think maybe I was hoping you would have an opinion on it, that you would tell me you suspected or it surprised you or something. Does that make sense?” The note of pleading in your voice betrays how uncertain you are about the entire situation.

“I guess...” the voice on the other end responds, painfully unconvinced. “But you have to remember I never got to meet Jules, so I have no idea how you two got along. And you’ve posted what, half a dozen times on facebook since I left for school? Maybe if you were less of a shut-in recluse I might have been able to offer something worthy of consideration, here.”

You say nothing, the age-old accusation from your closest friend made all the more pointed in the years since they accepted a full-ride scholarship from out-of-state and left, immediately after going to ████████ without you. A fear grips your heart, that you are ossifying into a relic of the past, remembered fondly but not often thought of. This feeling is only strengthened as the Oriole continues:

“Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you were looking for but I gotta go, I’ve got stuff that needs checking on at the lab. Talk later!” she promises, but you know both that she will forget and you won’t work up the courage to call again.

“Goodbye.” you respond.

You hang up.

“I still don’t understand what the problem is” blithes the Waxwing. “Just go to the ████████! No one is stopping you.”

You pause, attempting vainly to figure out how to explain that anxiety does not work that way, how incredibly overwhelming the world is even when you are able to cope with it, how you have been trying your best all of this time, and how utterly broken you feel that your best is barely, barely equivalent to a ‘normal’ person having an off day. You wonder why you had to deal with the indignity of this conversation in the first place; Jules is only out of town for a weekend, you should have been able to pick up your stuff in peace. Your ex’s mom acting as a housesitter was the last thing you expected. Or wanted.

You sigh.

“Look,” you begin, “I appreciate that you’ve always been supportive of me, but I really don’t feel like I can do this right now.” You pause to try and search for the right words but find only the deep well of shame and sadness trying to fight their way back into control. You try to head them off at the pass: “I’m sorry. Thank you for the tea and for helping me pack. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

You leave.

no update today, i spent a lot of time at what has turned into my actual for real pays human dollars job this weekend. as a result i am too exhausted to dig into the vastly disorganized pile of cardboard boxes filled to the brim with field data and marginally-legible summarizations of other research written on scraps of fast food wrappers, an assortment of used napkins, and the interiors of empty cigarette packets, all of which comprise the sum total of all knowledge here at The Academy of Bird Sciences. by way of an apology, please enjoy the above photographs depicting the before and current state of the greenhouse.

A common sight at birdfeeders and city parks, Eastern Gray Squirrels are flightless cousins to the more familiar Rock Pigeon, as attested by their soft, downy feathers and remarkably expressive eyes. Introduced to large cities across the country in an attempt to teach urban children to be kind to all birds no matter their handicap, these wingless avians have thrived upon the inherent generosity and kindness of citydwellers. Next time you swing through a city park, remember to bring some fresh green beans or apple slices to share!