Strange Visitor

Henry snatched up a towel and rushed at the bird waving it like a flag, his adversary fluttered away setting the light fitting swinging wildly in the process. Another snow shower of dust sifted down onto the carpet, some of it stirred up by the motion of the towel rose up into the air making him want to sneeze.

Frantically trying to avoid the swinging towel the bird made an awkward landing on the window ledge, then skittered along it sending even more dust up into the air. Henry trapped it in the corner of the window, dropped the towel and made a lunge for the bird; it fluttered away, but not far enough.

His second grab was successful, for a moment his fingers touched a ball of greasy feathers encasing a dementedly beating heart. Howling aloud with revulsion Henry shoved the bird through the open window.

As he slammed the casement shut and clicked the lock into place the bird hovered momentarily in the air glaring at him with its unblinking black eyes; then with a violent flap of its winds was gone.

Henry stood in the bathroom listening to the cymbal clash of his own heartbeat. Already what had just happened seemed unreal, like the outlandish events of a dream fading rapidly from memory.

Downstairs the telephone that had sat silently on the hall table since before his father went into hospital, started to ring.

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. :)