It said, "You know, that indigo bunting wouldn't scan worth shit."
I considered this. The train continued to pass.
"First of all, it's blue, and the scanner totally eats blue tones, and secondly, it's really only blue because of the light refraction, and you know how the scanner eats gold leaf. There's probably a good way to photograph 'em, but they just wouldn't scan."
The train finished passing. The bars began the pre-lifting joggling motion.
"It probably wouldn't like being wedged onto the scanner bed, either," the voice offered, and then felt silent. I drove across the tracks and on down the road.
Either my life is so good that this is my most burning issue, or man, I need a better class of ephiphanies.