• I heard from a tiny bird that my loneliness was absurd. So with a trap and
    a crack I snapped its aweful yap until the bold canary uttered nary a word.
    I took the limp flyer and stripped him bare, shoving his feathers into my
    hair. I then set the pot, started the blaze, cooking the bird in the
    sweetness of my craze. A whistle, a puff, two bites and it was gone, never
    did a thought say that I was wrong. My morsel finished and intestines
    yearning, my hunger was still yet burning. I grabbed the knife and marched
    to the den, another meal was fated to begin. My wife read ever so silently,
    my feet forced to match. I lifted my blade and severed her tale with one
    last snatch. How good she was, I cleared my bowl, and then scoffed when the
    garbage man watched her head fall and roll. Now I sit content and happy, my
    cell five by three. Hands tied behind as my eyes stare with glee. How good
    the meal was though it be my last. But whats this? My chains are failing and
    fast...