Dear Kelly Clarkson,

Miss Clarkson. I have read that you wanted a bird but were not permitted to obtain it. Well, I am in possession of a bird and do not want to be. Perhaps we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.

In brief: There is a bird in here. Specifically, a raven. It sits, croaking, uninvited, on my bust of Pallas. (I would also be happy to give you the bust of Pallas. It is a tasteful bust; my only qualm with it is that it reminds me of my lost Lenore.) I didn’t ask the bird to be here. To the contrary, I would like nothing more than for it to depart. I have asked it to do so, first politely, and then rudely. But nothing. The raven will not budge.

The lede was my first LOL in days.