
BIRDS AREN’T REAL by D.T. ROBBINS
My girlfriend tells me something’s off in our relationship. Says we’re missing a spark or magic or whatever she calls it. I go, Oh, you wanna see magic? She goes, Yeah, idiot, I just said that. So, I wrap an old t-shirt around her eyes and lead her out into the field behind our apartment. It’s all a big surprise. The ice chest is full of beers and pastrami sandwiches and the chocolate cookies she baked last month. I put a slice of bread in a Ziplock bag with the cookies to keep them fresh. The cookies stay moist and…