One recent late winter morning I entered the kitchen and found the sink window cracked open. I closed it and scrubbed my hands along my upper arms, my breath forming tiny clouds of white mist before my face. Beginning my work-day routine, I started the coffee pot and took the bird food off the shelf. I turned to the cage and dropped the container. It hit with a smack on the cold tile and skittered in all directions.
In the cage, instead of my parakeet Murphy, I found these letters where he would normally be flitting and singing in the sun shining through the window.
I scanned the room, but today, no singing and no bird. I circled behind the cage and found pictures on the backs of the four cards; a flock of white pelicans in flight; a tropical beach lined with coconut palms; a close-up of one palm with parakeets and parrots roosting in the branches; the words “Bye bye.”
I sighed and realized I hadn’t heard Murphy singing for at least a week, and, come to think of it, hadn’t seen the sun in even longer. I gazed out of the window wishing he’d taken me along.
Tea Leaf Tales is a series of original ten-sentence short stories by Marsha A. Moore, relating to photos/scenes that resonate with her.*~*~*