Kez

He saw a bird crash once - a blackbird, one of them, a raven or a crow or a rook or one of those. It was reeling in the air like it was drunk, tight little circles and jagged little lines, and he thought maybe it had a broken wing, or had been hacked from above by a hawk or something, and was staggering now, wounded, like a soldier shot.

 He saw it hit a roof, smack, and roll down it then, the black feathers crumpled on the black tiles, the whole thing rolling and falling from the eaves and hitting the ground.

 He thought he was like that bird. Then he thought that was stupid. He wasn't like the bird. He was like the roof. Broken items always hitting him.

From The Parts (c) Keith Ridgway 2003. Not to be copied or reproduced without permission. For rights information email info@keithridgway.com