Birds-eye

Birds-eye, pt6

The cat disappears into the bushes, a slight shimmering of grey in the green. Apparently it lives by Atticus Finches' decree, otherwise I'd be one dead bird by now. It just shrank by. It hardly even noticed me, when by all means it should be fixin' to kill me. I gaze at the shrubs. I could've wished for a better omen. Cause, o boyo, something is truly, truly wrong up yonder. If the cat don't pay the birdie no more mind, you is better start saying your prayers. As far as I can tell, all that cat really wanted was to get away from the house as soon as it could. But you know what they say. Birds dare tread where cats dare not, or something of the sort, so off I go. Time for me to pay a visit to the big house. Specially now that I can trust it to be catfree. I've noticed an open window above the one where the man loitered. Everything seems to be waiting for me.

As soon as I'm in, the air has changed. It has taken on a sense of suffocation. I appear to have entered in an unused room, a collection of dust and dirt. I can't hardly make out the shapes of furnitere in the dark. Everything in me urges me to go back to the light, back to the window, now, before it's too late, but I can't. I'm looking after her. I flutter around in the dark for a bit, as clumsy as a young hatchling. It's a miracle I don't bump into more things than I do. After a while, steadily, I find my rhythm again, my wings beating eagerly. Navigating in a confined space isn't what I was born to do, but I'll manage. I'm sure I have done worse. At least there's one stroke of luck. It's a raggety old place and the woodworms have made my life a whole lot easier. Not only did they leave holes big enough for a bird to crawl through, they provided for some wayside snacks as well.

Previous parts:
Birds-eye, part 1
Birds-eye, part 2
Birds-eye, part 3
Birds-eye, part 4
Birds-eye, part 5