(The story of)
The lost stork and the desperate girl
It took about as long for my heart to explode as it takes for a star to die. The same effect really, both very spectacular and yet unnoticed by billions. Heated up in a long progress, got bigger and - vanished. Left nothing to wonder about. Nothing but nothingness. I can't tell if stars feel pain but my explosion was such a sudden thing that I only came to think about it a while later.
It started with a couple of fatal nights a couple of weeks before that. Suffering. And it ended as soon as a stork got lost in my garden. He immediately dug for - and swallowed - a mole which must have been a matter of confusion as I don't picture furry, muddy moles to be very delicious.
He looked around, roamed around and spread his own confusion so it would strike me. Mission accomplished, Sir! I never used to be superstitious but this really made me hope my ancestors had been wrong about the stork/baby thingy.
Poor storky got chased off shortly afterwards, maybe he had only realised he had chosen the wrong person. Turns out, no one I know is going to have a baby too soon. Plus, we had him get rid of one of our countless moles - what a useless "skadedjur" anyway!
I'm going to take it as a warning and hope for the next time the two of us meet to be the right time. So long, good old bird! I'll be off, mending my heart in the meantime.
