A ruffle of feathers, and then pin-drop silence.
He waited, patiently,
before the woman finally emerged outside the house, carrying a small plate of
fruit and cake. Apples, oranges, and a cake that seemed to sit nicely in a
paper cup. He was excited, and it was hard to stay still, because patience and
adrenaline were difficult to meld.
Yet, he waited, for he
knew it would be worth it.
The woman busied, around,
placing the food on a red altar outside the house. A small, red wooden piece
attached horizontally against the wall, on which a small pot was filled with
fine sand. Two tall, red candlesticks, unlit, stood on each side of the small
pot, and a row of filled teacups graced the front of the altar. The main red
plaque with carved-in golden writing sat majestically on the wooden altar. He
always found it strange that several homes had this. Nevertheless, he was
thankful that when he failed to find a single worm, he could always fly to
these tranquil houses for food. For that, he was grateful. At least not all
humans would kill birds, unlike cats and dogs. He shivered at the thought of
their sharp teeth and hot, lashing tongues ready to make him their breakfast.
He shifted his position carefully on the tall, black gate, waiting from afar as
he watched the woman.
After what felt like a millennium, the woman finally left the food and entered the house, closing the
door. Chirping softly with joy, he flew towards the altar, perching on the
wooden piece. First, he looked around cautiously for any signs of danger.
Spotting neither cats nor dogs around, he happily pecked at the luscious red
apple, which looked so pleasing to the eye. It was sweet and juicy, and it
filled his little tummy in no time. A quarter of the lovely apple was now gone,
and so was his hunger. Newfound energy now rushed through his veins.
However much he wished to
stay, he knew it was time to leave this private heaven. Preening his feathers,
he took off, just as the woman stepped out of the house once more.
A ruffle of feathers, and
then pin-drop silence.
A small smile etched on
the woman’s face.
written by kN. 23/5/2012
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