We are pleased to announce that there are three winners of the contest for David Sedaris tickets tonight. They are John Gastil, Sarah Russell, and Lauren Christie.

Here are the entries that won. Congratulations to the winners.

John Gastil

Toad licked his lips. Fly had never tasted so sweet. So flavorful.

Toad considered all the flies he’d devoured in his so many years in the pond. The brittle crunchy ones that gave precious but prickly protein in the dry season. The fat and loamy ones that limped along the grass after a monsoon.

But this one? This one he’d eaten for the sheer pleasure of the meal. He didn’t need it. He just savored it. Until…

Serpent hacked and coughed as she swallowed the toad. All toads tasted dreadful. But she could tolerate very little toad gloat.

Sarah Russell – ‘Avian Arbiter’

The crows were mating–uh, uh intimate crow talk, not the caws of public crows.  Serious business, because it’s for life, and that’s like forever–even to a crow who doesn’t live as long as, say, a parrot.

It wasn’t going well.  Something about raising the kids Catholic.

I offered a Unitarian compromise.  Gilda agreed, but Horace crossed his wings, insistent.

Well, at least I’d tried.  Because that’s what I do.  Arbitration.  Mostly for birds.  Almost never for insects.  One told me life’s just too short.  That’s why they’re promiscuous.  No consequences.  Not like crows and parrots.

Lauren Christie – ‘Choosing’

The man’s face grows large in the silver box, “And the final rose goes to –”

“I don’t get it,” the Black Cat purrs to the Orange Cat beside him.

“Nor I, but Human must. She’s watched this all day.”

“Well, I’ve had enough. I’m going to see what the Wet Things are doing,” says Black

Cat slinking away.

Orange Cat joins him by the aquarium. “If I could just reach in,” Black Cat sighs.

“But you can’t.”

“I’d choose that yellow one, it looks so nice.”

Human stands watching the cats now and shakes her head. “I don’t get it.”

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