Geese Are Assholes

Wren floated in the river near his home. The water in his ears muffled the cries of his baby sister and the laughter of his mom. The sun warmed his face. He couldn’t figure out why his chest ached when it was such a pleasant day. The scent of his mother’s lavender water was surprisingly strong in his nose. It brought a smile to his face. That scent had never come with anything negative. That scent had never hurt him.

The river pulled him down stream and he heard his little brother banging a stick against a tree. He frowned. The day was peaceful and calm and his brother always had to be so loud. He opened his mouth to respond, but remembered his mother’s unhappy frown when they fought and closed it.

He kept it shut and the banging kept going on. It would pause. Then three rapid bangs would happen. Then a pause. Frustrated he opened his eyes and froze.

There was no river. There was no forest. There was no mother, or brother, or baby sister. The s