A Frictionless Drift

Lying under the armchair was acceptable, but a discarded plastic glossy magazine cover resting near the television console looked suspiciously slippery. Walking over was unthinkable. I hooked my orange beak into the edge of the smooth page, heaved my heavy rear onto the slick paper, and gave one mighty backward kick against the wooden furniture leg. Zoom. I turned into a feathered bobsled, gliding effortlessly across the parquet floor until my belly bumped the dark rim of the media console. Trapped underneath was a dusty plastic milk cap filled with stray carpet fuzz and one ancient dry pet kibble. A five-star meal delivered via express transit.