Eighty Four

Today the adolescent sparrow thought about how wouldn't it be grand if there were a deliciously juicy berry or perhaps the smallest nibble of birthday cake (sans frosting, you know) that could function as a sort of instant coma, a sort of self induced catatonia, why not, and wouldn't it be marvelous if she could just wake up several months from now, dewey-eyed and slender, memories stripped, spreading her wings and yawning?