1957

 

"Woh!" said the heron, as the colours fell from the sky. "It's the future, man!"

 

"No," said the voice of God; "It is the future of Apple."

 

"Far out," said the heron, who had enough remaining brain cells to realise that none of the colours looked like an apple (although the one in the top left corner could be said fruit if you closed one eye, squinted with the other and stood on your head).

 

 

 

Horton the heron had always been ahead of his time. He had, for example, been saying "far out" since 1946. His almost permanent state of chronological displacement may have had something to do with the fact that he lived next door to the local poppy field.

 

"Choose your app," said the voice of God, as the heron absently chewed on the petals of his favourite snack.

 

"Like, what's an 'app,' man?" said Horton.

 

"Application," said the voice of God.

 

Horton was none the wiser. He stared, glassy-eyed, at the colours in the sky.

 

"Pick a colour!" said God.

 

"Crazy, man," said Horton - who then spat a glob of red pulp at the orange. The orange exploded, sending shards of orangey stuff at Horton.

 

"Woh!" said Horton. "Like that's just made me angry, omnipotent dude!"

 

"So are you saying you are an angry bird?" said the voice of Omnipotent Dude.

 

"Totally!" said Horton.

 

"Then my work here is done."

 

 

***