Gully
This is my friend. His name is Gully.
While waiting alone to be picked up after work, I took notice of the many sea gulls that literally littered the parking lot of Brunswick Bowl. Gully was just one of many gulls that congregating in the parking lot around me; although just one of many, he was different. After hopping around the grass for some time, no doubt looking for something delicious, he decided that he could use some company too and stood next to me on the curb.
We talked about a variety of subjects; I carried on about the smell of rubber in my clothes and he waxed poetic about the taste of garbage.
Being an impatient chap, he grew tired of waiting for my ride. With a nod and a squawk, he extended his large wings, ran along the parking lot, and took off.
I watched him soar in the dusk sky far above, doing what I can only dream of. He would swoop up and up in large circles and then glide downward in what could only feel like an eternity. Again and again he would repeat this pattern, as if saying that he hoped I could do the same with a little instruction.
Eventually, he became dimmer and dimmer as he traveled further away, compelled only by the wind and his wits, until he faded into nothingness.
Here’s to you Gully - hope you had a safe landing.