Day 113: 28 February 2026

 Short Story -- Bob and Reg are Back Again

‘ ‘Ey Bob!’ Reg called from the roof ridge of a house across the street.

Reg couldn’t see it, but Bob rolled his eyes. He turned back to his companion, the one on the roof ridge with him, and said, ‘I am so sorry. One minute.’ Then he turned and shouted, ‘I’m talkin’ to Cynthia, Reg!’

Reg shouted back, ‘What? I can’t ’ear you!’

Bob sighed and shouted louder, ‘I’m talkin’ to Cynthia!’

‘Oh,’ Reg called back. ‘Whatchya doin’ that for?’

At this point, Cynthia said softly to Bob, ‘Perhaps now isn’t a good time.’

‘Naw, Cynthia. Please don’t leave because of Reg!’ Bob pleaded. He’d been trying to talk to Cynthia alone for days now.

‘Another time, Bob,’ she said apologetically and took flight.

Bob watched her wistfully as she flew away.

‘I said…!’

Bob snapped back to reality and flew over to Reg, knocking him off the roof as he landed.

Reg flapped back up. ‘That was a bad land in’ Bob.’

‘Couldn’t you see I was talking to Cynthia?!’ Bob said enraged and skipping over his purposeful knocking off the roof of Reg. ‘Why did you have to be yellin’ at me?’

‘I was just curious,’ said Reg, confused why his friend seemed mad.

‘But you knew I’d been trying forever to talk to Cynthia,’ Bob said exasperated.

‘Did I?’ Reg wondered.

Bob had always known that having Reg for a friend would sometimes come with its trials… but today he was in no state of mind to cope with it.

‘I’m goin’ to go,’ Bob said, preparing to take off.

‘I’ll come with ya,’ Reg offered genially. ‘Where are we going?’

If Bob could have pinched the bridge of his beak in frustration, he would have. Alas, no fingers and his wings didn’t work like that.

‘I’m goin’ by myself,’ Bob said.

‘But I can come with you!’ Reg said cheerfully. ‘I don’t have any plans.’

Bob turned to face Reg. ‘I want to be alone.’

‘Nobody wants that,’ Reg countered.

Bob sighed. It was hopeless. He took off.

Soon he heard from his right, ‘You never did say where we were goin’.’

Bob kept facing forward and silent. Perhaps that would give Reg a hint.

But instead, Reg started trying to sing. He wasn’t very good, but he always gave it his all.

Bob wasn’t sure the day could get much worse.

And then he heard the screech from on high.

He and Reg were both looking frantically around.

‘A hawk!’ yelped Reg.

‘Make for that tree!’ shouted Bob.

‘He’s go me!’ called a distraught Reg.

Bob turned around and dive bombed the hawk, pecking at his head. And soon he wasn’t the only one.

‘Cynthia?’ he cried in amazement.

The hawk decided Reg wasn’t worth the pecking he was taking, so he let go and flew off.

‘I’m wounded,’ said Reg dramatically.

‘Where?’ asked Bob looking his friend over. They’d made it to the tree now. ‘I don’t see anything’.’

‘That was very brave,’ Cynthia said admiringly to Bob. ‘And very stupid.’

‘We do what we must for our friends,’ Bob answered, tired.

‘So you're not mad at me now?’ asked Reg cheerfully. It seemed he’d miraculously healed of his non-existent injuries.

Bob rolled his eyes and turned to Cynthia.