I stalked outside, shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun. Slouching by my car, I defiantly lit a cigarette. A chilly wind tangled my hair, and I cursed the sensation, unusual for this time of year. Looking to my right, I wondered why no one bothered to clean up or drain the brown puddle. Mud was sure to be tracked inside should anyone step in it.
A bluejay hopped merrily into it, splashing and chirping.
I thought I saw him smile as we looked at each other and thought together, "Aren't you silly"?