Perhaps a bird overdose

I opened the grate to my fireplace last night to start the first fire of winter. I saw something in the darkness. I couldn’t tell what it was. Before I even knew what I was doing, I heard myself saying out loud, “Please don’t let it be a dead bird. Please don’t let it be a dead bird.” It was, in the end, the leftover piece of burnt wood from the last fire.

I wonder how many other people would have that same first response?