Strange Visitor

For some reason Henry found this more alarming than the rock throwing burglar he had imagined to be invading his house. He didn't question how this tiny brown intruder had got into the house; he just wanted to drive it out.

Suddenly he was running along the landing shouting and waving his arms as if he too wanted to take to the air. Frightened the bird shot up towards the ceiling, found nowhere to go then banging its wings awkwardly on the top edge of the door flew away from his angry voice into the bedroom.

Still shouting and burning up with an anger that made him stupid Henry followed. He stood in the centre of the room turning around in circles, the bird was nowhere to be seen; somehow it had lost itself in the dimness of the room.

“Where are you? Who let you into my house?”

To his own ears his voice sounded strained and hysterical, like that of a child caught on the wrong side of a game he didn't understand. This brought him back to something like calm, he stood still in the centre of the room and listened to the too loud thump of his heart.

Out of the corner of his eye Henry saw something move. It was the bird, hovering at ceiling height in the corner of the room, its tiny black eyes shining in a shaft of sunlight coming in through a chink in the drawn curtains.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)