My Neighbor's Killer Geese

I used to live in the suburbs. It took all the kids in the neighborhood about half an hour to walk to school, including me. I lived the furthest away, so for the last five or sometimes ten minutes, I walked alone.

Living in the suburbs was fun. I still remember walking home through country roads or fields, always by myself. I started doing this when I was six years old and began attending senior kindergarten.

Luckily, I was on the second school shift, which meant I didn't have to go to school until as late as 11 am sometimes. I was allowed to sleep in, and I don't remember ever waking up early during my elementary school days.

I know, I know, the story about the killer geese.

Well, my neighbor raised geese for food. They fed them very well, and they grew to be giant. There were always a dozen of them. This was especially intimidating because I was a small person back then. These giant geese were let out on the street to graze on the grass by the side of the road.

They were not happy geese. They were grumpy and behaved like dogs, always trying to chase me. They didn't have babies to protect, so I'm not sure why they targeted me whenever I appeared on the horizon.

Just like I avoided bullies throughout my life, I also avoided geese. I didn't confront them because it was pointless. Instead, I took a different path. Occasionally, I had to face dogs on that different path, but that was rare. I also got to see cows who did nothing but stare at me.

In the end, I would arrive home an hour later, not because it actually took that long to get home using my alternative path, but because I was a collector. I would gather leaves, grass, flowers, and anything else that caught my eye.