The Final Irony

And here is the piece de resistance of irony:  I went to smoke a cigarette during work today.  I drove across the street to this fountain-y thing.  Anyway, i have been pretty blue and pretty angry for the past few days -as you may have noticed from my recent posts.  I was standing there, smoking, and realized I had been standing there, in that very same spot, talking to him when he told me he was going to come here to be with me.                                                                   

Geesh!  No escape.

Was that the ironic part?  Doesn’t make much sense to us, you say.  Maybe the rest of it won’t either, but to some, it will…

But wait, there’s more!  I looked around a little and turned to go back to my car.  There, on the ground, at my very feet, right next to the sidewalk, was a dead robin.  It had been dead for some time.  It’s chest was ripped open and you could see the poor little bird’s insides, all on the outside.  I just stood there and stared.  Then I laughed, tears rolling out of my eyes.  I took a picture of the poor little dead thing with my cell phone and will put it in my photos later.  My work-brother, Brien told me I should use it as my avatar – ha ha – but we decided it was too gruesome.

But really, how ironic is that??????


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