The sun was beginning to sink into that crack in the window shade where it met with the sill, so Wink was assured of the arrival of Dark within the hour. OK not pitch dark yet but twilight which brought on the anxiety before complete dark. 
Wink had no inclination to strap on the fake legs and all the mental manipulations on this planet were not going to make him do it. “That’s what money is for– to make you comfortable and let you follow your own course to hell” which was his plan. Six months as a cripple, bedridden for the most part, had convinced Wink this was the only hell he could aspire to. Not that there weren’t bright spots in the day, mostly as a result of his television schedule, the Price is Right, Soaps, the day long news channels, but when that became monotonous, stacks of books filled in those corners of his mind empty of content. Then the idea came to him that writing was a calling that he was suited for. “Well, why not?” Who could have a better story than his own?
His garden was a work of Art, a masterpiece of planning that encompassed half an acre and took up most of each day’s attention. Money allowed that, he could indulge himself now, thanks to his old man, he was never going to be a wage slave again. Of course dear old dad would hardly approve of his lifestyle now, but who cares, does Wink? Does a bee have a buzzer? “Come get your money if you can, you old fart,”. HaHa. 
There were things in his garden, moles, skunks, raccoons, rabbits, possums, even Birds for gods sakes and he was going to get rid of them all, cleanse his garden, which he was sure would be doing the Earth itself a favor.
The Paraquat was a marvelous invention, he already had numerous varieties of wildlife on the skids and near to being GONE! and birds? They were a bonus, some he didn’t count on, like ravens, “the damn thieves!” Wink’s legs though had swelled up like sausages from crawling around seeing to the placement of Paraquat but godawmighty, walking was becoming an impossibility.
The first weeks without legs the bedroom wall he turned to for comfort became his best friend, “get out of my house” he would scream to those pleading with him to get some help to rehab himself. He gradually settled into a routine that included trips in the chair to his garden which now required professional maintenance except for one touch of expertise he alone provided– the spreading of Paraquat to cleanse the earth of vermin, of which there were plenty. His own state of disability did not enter the picture as Paraquat being the causation. His legs were gone, plainly seen, brought on by the infestation of vermin, was the nexus in his mind and anyone who thought to convince him otherwise better have a few hours to spare because he had lengthy sermons on the subject. The more Birds and animals the Paraquat took care of, the better, his mental health and well being testified to it! He was vigorous for the first time since the, the …what? Accident? “Well yes, losing your legs is certainly not a choice.”
Twilight, just before full dark, had been his favorite time of day, until that damn bird showed up and ruined the view from his exclusively made window with a view. He had set out Paraquat laced corn, on the sill (hadn’t worked) and the Bird was getting really bold, even insistent. Wink was wondering if it could beak its way to shattering the Shatterproof-Tornado-Proof-Tempered-Glass and he was pondering the next step, which would be “To be Continued” in his thought processes he ascribed to “thinking like a writer” a literary exercise for tomorrow.
He woke to a tinkling glassy sound and the large black form which Wink took as a vulture, settled on his face, choking off a scream, oxygen following a close second
A startled health care worker described a scene full of blood and black bird feathers, noticing a small hole in the shatterproof glass of the lowermost window pane.
“The beauty of a moss and fern garden, having been recently expanded, resembles a medieval world” declared a premier gardening publication, “it is a must see stop for traveling gardeners who wish to develop their knowledge pertaining to this form of gardening. In addition to flora, the fauna are a bonus addition, a perfect delight. Many small creatures seem to be drawn to the silent beauty of this magical realm. 
“That’s what money is for” echoed in the zephyrs.


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