Viewing Thanksgiving from the perspective of a turkey.
In America, people come together to observe a holiday known as Thanksgiving.
When greeting someone on Thanksgiving, it’s common to say, “Happy Thanksgiving.” This phrase is heard everywhere, from TV and radio to religious leaders and funeral directors.
Think of a turkey stuffed with sage dressing laid out on a silver platter—the centerpiece on the dining room table, all crispy and nice.
Nationwide, a host raises a glass of champagne and toasts, “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Yeah, for everyone except the turkey who’s made the ultimate sacrifice.
Well, that’s a bunch of goops.
Tom is my name. And I am a big, strong, handsome turkey.
My mate Lucy is a young, beautiful bird with white feathers.
Lucy asks with blinking eyes, “Why do people have to eat us on Thanksgiving?”
With a “Please don’t cry,” I spread my wings and peck at her neck.
We’re huddled together in a pen.
Longing to roam the open fields, we gaze at the sky, where birds fly high and wonder,
Phyllis Souza lives in Northern California and is retired from a long real estate career. After taking several on-line writing classes, she started writing flash fiction and short stories. Her stories have been published in Café Lit, Spillwords, Scarlet Leaf, and Friday Flash Fiction.