Found Food

So…waiting for sudden death takes longer than you might think. I felt like I'd lived and died a couple times and was in the process of doing it all over again when I heard the lid of the metal object I was up against open. Something was tossed inside, then the lid closed with a bang. The feet shuffled away, sounding somewhat less predatory.

I counted to ten (which took a while, I have absolutely no clue how to count, nobody ever bothered to teach me). When I finally reached it I sucked in what little gut I had and snuck a glance around the corner in time to see a man wipe his hands on his apron and push his food cart away. The owner of that voice was nowhere in sight. The bench out by the street was empty.

I slid down the grimy wall, legs knocking together, wings trembling against my back. They hurt when I slid on them. Oh well.

I'd scared myself over nothing. Mind tricks. That voice hadn't seen me - my mind just thought he had, and I'd panicked. The random chance of a stranger just happening to be pitching his trash had helped the affect along magnificently. Dark, smelly alley. People looking for me. That voice after me. Paranoia was having a hey day.

Let's hear it for survival skills: I'd been scared of a food vendor. I really needed to buck it up – I was never going to survive like this. Especially since I was being eaten alive from the inside out by my stomach.

The smell of something more edible than the oily rags I was sitting on suddenly hit my nose. I clamored up, drawing it in in deep breaths, trying to find where it was coming from. It hadn't been there a minute ago. I knew it hadn't been there a minute ago.

Inside. The. Metal. Object. That's where it was.

Oh man oh man oh man oh man, I was so gonna pass out from inhalation of edible fumes. I clawed at the thing, trying to find the opening. Heck, just trying to rip a hole into it. That was what the man had done. He'd dumped old food in the dumpster. Didn't he realize what valuables he was throwing away? What a fool!

It was probably a good thing I hadn't smelled the stuff while he was still actually holding it – I would have totally jumped him for it. Funny how things like morals go down the drain when you're starving.

I finally managed to push the lid up. I wasn't tall enough; I couldn't see, but oh, man, I could smell. Greasy slimy day-old lukewarm food. The difference between my survival and extinction was in there – if only I could get to it.

I jumped a few times, almost able to clear the edge. Not quite. The rusty sides were just too tall. I bounced up and down, trying, trying…yes! I hooked my foot over the side. Pulling my leg, I used the leverage to haul myself up and over the edge.

Okay, so maybe not the best plan of action, in retrospect. I lost my hold on the flaking metal and slipped completely inside. I landed on my butt with a squish just as the lid banged shut over me. A wave of odor surrounded me, resettling in the enclosed space.

I sat there for a second, contemplating. In a dumpster. In the dark. With a pair of wings on my back, somebody's old neon-green jacket, a ton of bad people after me…

And a ton of delicious half-smooshed wrap-things squashed underneath me.

Who says heaven is just for dead people?