Kara is the keeper of the owls. If one might have an inclination to try and remove an owl from the wall or maybe, say, rub their genitals against one, it just might provoke her to step out from the mirror, gouge the offender’s eyes out, blend it up into an ocular smoothie and invite the owl predator to drink up. Cheers.
(*This was taken at lunch yesterday, which I will write about when it is not Sunday, because on Sundays I don’t like to be writin’. I do important things on Sundays, like bug the shit out of Henry and make him buy me things and then maybe I might kick around some pebbles down at the graveyard, drink some Jack on the pier, become embroiled in a knife fight with a bike gang: my world is pregnant with possibilies.)