"Don't break a bird's wings and tell it to fly." Najua Zebian
Early one morning, I sit at my table. I sip my coffee, as through the window crevices, the wind whispers in my ear. A strange formation of lights in the sky flies overhead and the house lights flicker several times. Then I hear a crackle that shakes the whole house as a sudden windstorm kicks up. Confused, by the sudden storm, I stare out my window, just as purple daggers of lightning, explode into dark clouds, and rain pours over the treetops bending them over like old men on a fishing trip. Roofs are torn off buildings.
Shaking with the cold, I look up high above the twisted trees and see a flight of blackbirds circling overhead. Their wings frantically flap as they circle high above dead animal corpses. One of them swoops down, nearly hit by a passing car. Never a good sign. As I stare at these circling dark harbingers. I am mesmerized by the sight. It sets my nerves to twitching. I lay back down, exhausted, I close my eyes, but I am still shaking. Then, I wipe the sleep from my eyes, and suddenly my ears catch some unexpected sound, a murmuring voice against the car sounds. It appears to whisper, "don't kill.", I try to pretend I didn't really hear it, but my eyes take note of several moving shadows between the trees.
My muddled brain tries to figure out the next sound, a bullet being loaded into a pistol. Having fired a weapon myself with Gramps on numerous occasions, immediately I recognize that sound I know all too well, from my days on the front lines of the video game wars, most on foreign soil and my eyes begin to twitch.
(Continued)
