Author's Note: A short in-class assignment, like quite a few other Catcher in the Rye fics here. I thought I could capture some of Holden's off-beat thought process.
Disclaimer: I do not own Catcher in the Rye. If I did, I'd be pretty messed up. Damn.
Strictly For the Birds
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
I never understood why those old ladies in the park enjoyed feeding birds. I mean, why not cats, like all other old windbags? I guess when your brain starts to turn to mush, birds and cats all look the same, and all you care about is getting' rid of all that stale bread you haven't bothered to eat in weeks. Little old ladies are sweet and all, but everyone knows when those biddies go senile, there's nothing they can do about the crusts and crumbles piling up everywhere. I've got to applaud them, though. What better way to throw out your trash that giving it to the birds; having all those nasty, stupid pigeons eating it out of your hand. Those ladies just sit there on a old rickety bench for hours. They don't care if you're flunking out of Pencey, or wearing a red hunting cap backwards, or breaking garage windows or anything like that. They just go on crooning to those crumby birds. That's pretty damn valiant. It really is.