‘What are they?’ Arlene asked. ‘Those are wild turkeys,’ William said. ‘Aren’t they gorgeous!’ ‘They don’t look like domestic turkey... at all, do they?’ Arlene asked. ‘They’re pretty. And the little ones are so cute.’ ‘They’re beautiful,’ William said. ‘I’ve never seen one with babies before.’ While William and Arlene watched, the turkey wandered around for a while, pecking at the ground, after a little while they disappeared back into the woods. ‘You know,’ William said, ‘Seeing that turkey. Or, maybe it’s better to say, you’re ... relatable.”“Uh, I’m sorry, can you repeat that? Cause it sounds like you just said I was relatable, me, and you’re, uh, something I’m guessing is the equivalent of a goddess.”“Close enough.” Chuckling, the old woman reached into her cloak with her free, wrinkly hand, and pulled out a small bag. Old school didn’t do justice what the bag looked like. Must have been a flap of deer skin tied together into a shitty bag by a shitty string made of who the fuck. More

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