They think that because they can’t understand us, we can’t understand them. 

We do. 

We know all about them, their main worry, death, and their main flaw, greed. 

We know about the meaning of life.

We know what happens after, too. 

Shame they look down on us. We could explain it all, we could look into their vacuous eyes and just say: “Relax, you’re about to find out, here’s the thing, here’s what happens after that white tunnel…”

We could mess them up a little, first. 

“After the tunnel, well, mate, there’s another tunnel, an Aquasplash type slide. Then another one. And another. And another.”

But that’s only the Penguins’ afterlife. 

It’s much more complicated for humans.

At least they don’t exterminate us. 

It’s lucky we’re cute. 

Humans are stupid that way. 

We make the news when we infiltrate a sushi bar. Have you ever seen news about a couple of rats getting into a sushi bar? 

We get away with it. Everytime.

Salmon skin rolls, Sake, Seaweed.

John’s a recurrent offender. A criminal, really, 3 break-ins in 24 hours. 

Have you ever seen a pigeon getting away with anything? 

So we waddle on, from place to place, laughing into the face of humanity. 

B F Jones is French and lives in the UK. She has stories published in various UK and US literary magazines:Ellipsis,The Cabinet of Heed, Rejection Letters, Spelk, Idle Ink and Storgy amongst others. Her debut collection, The Fabric of Tombstones, was released in April 2020.