by Harry B. Sanderford and Madam Z
Sadie was outside, looking for the newspaper and cursing the cold, December wind, when she spotted a bright orange tangerine lying in the middle of the snow-covered driveway. Like a beautiful painting, the incongruent image of the citrus in the snow seized Sadie for a moment, eliciting laughter even as tears formed in her eyes and her heart swelled with what she would later decide was joy, then quickly sank with what she knew to be sorrow upon realizing that the pretty perishable was cradled not in the snow as first thought, but rather perched just above it on the frozen tips of a man's fingers. Her mind raced wildly, wondering if she should brush off the snow and see who the man was, or if she should dial 911, or if she should just grab the tangerine and run back into the house and eat it. Sadie's deliberations were pretty much settled when she broke into a run, arms flailing, yelling, Shoo, GO-Wan, SHOO! at a great black crow who had swooped from the power line landing inches from the fruit, more amusing than frightening her feathery foe when she slipped on a slick spot and slid in a butt-first beeline towards the frozen man, the crow and the vitamin C. She hit the crow with one cheek, sending him cawing into the air, and the tangerine with the other cheek, sending it rolling down the drive, and then she ground to a halt, stuck on those cold, stiff fingers. Horrified, embarrassed, verging on hysteria and to be honest just a little turned on by the cool fella's glacial grope, Sadie whipped around to see if her indignity had been observed and finding the crow her only witness, watched him peck twice at the frosty fruit before abandoning it to resume his post on the wire, and then she screamed and nearly joined him there when she felt those fingers move.
Harry B. Sanderford and Madam Z know how to rise to a challenge.