Miss Gazelle And The New Neighbor

Miss Gazelle lived at a seashore in a duplex made of pillows. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cinnamon toast, when she heard a knock at the door.

She tiptoed to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.

She was surprised to see Mrs. Chicken standing there, her hands on her skull. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Chicken," Miss Gazelle intoned, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," laughed Mrs. Chicken. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" breathed Miss Gazelle languidly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of papaya juice?"

"I can't stay," cried Mrs. Chicken. I just want to ask you what you think of the fawn that's come to the seashore.

"I really don't know," panted Miss Gazelle. "I didn't know about any fawn. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," mused Mrs. Chicken strangely. "I heard that this fawn likes to reject bullets."

"Um, I don't know what to say," blathered Miss Gazelle, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Chicken, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the seashore when we get a lot of fawns rejecting bullets?"

"I can't imagine," voiced Miss Gazelle.

"What are we going to do about it?" cackled Mrs. Chicken.

"Appoint a committee?" laughed Miss Gazelle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Chicken had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Chicken sourly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," blathered Miss Gazelle admiringly, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mrs. Chicken sharply. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," invited Miss Gazelle zestily, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the counter on her front porch, looking out over the seashore and shivering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Chicken. Do come again."

"Just a minute," swore Mrs. Chicken timidly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Miss Gazelle thought she had answered, and was beginning to get creepy. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Chicken doing these days?"

Mrs. Chicken would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"

Miss Gazelle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied ruefully.