Fiction, Fiction&Poetry, ShortStory, Story, Uncategorized

The birds

Hello there reader!
Inspiration for random stories comes at the most random hours and from the most random things! Trying to write fiction/story, tell me how you like it! Comment/criticism welcome!

As I sit by the window, sipping my tea, watching the blue sky slowly turn orange, alluding to the impending sunset, I am mesmerised by the pattern of flight of birds. Every day, they sit by my window sill, pigeons, sparrows, crows, the locals, much to my annoyance at times, given that they shit all over my little balcony. Despite the window being protected by a iron grill, these little flying monkeys find some way to squeeze themselves in and litter my favorite spot.

At first I tried shooing them away, but their stubborn desire and fondness for my window won in the end and I gave up. Now we just accept each other’s presence.

I hear the shrill sound of a few parrots flying somewhere nearby, towards their home at the same time everyday. One day I was fortunate enough to witness one of them perched in my window for a long time, but just as I went near to pet it, it flew away, mocking me.

I see the crows sit solmenly on the roof of buildings, discussing crucial issues in the bird world probably, or reviewing their weekly targets (I would like to think its not just us humans who are bound by the shackles of targets and deadlines)

But today there’s something different about the birds. They aren’t flying home. I see a few crows  flying back and forth in circles near my window. Odd, I think to myself.

Just as I get up to go away from the window, one of them comes at full speed, like a rocket if you must, and rams into my window grill, stuck, struggling to get in, but with almost a fire in its beady little eye. Like a man on a  mission, I try to shoo it away but it just keeps cawing and struggling to come near me. Before I can react, many more crows join this little game of “lets enter this house at any cost”. I am flabbergasted.

Until realisation dawns on me. It’s my coven. That’s right I am a witch. An ex witch if you must. I left my coven and all the practices some time back when I shifted to the city to live a normal life. They had warned me that no one walks away from them. This is just the start, the crows are just a little preshow act, sent by my coven to bother me. A warning for me to come to my senses and go back to them. But I refuse to comply.

I am dragged back to the present by the cawing. Irritated, I murmur a little spell and throw a little lightning on the nasty birds and shut my window. That should keep them away, I smile.

Oh no, hopefully one of the neighbours or pedestrians didn’t see this. I can’t move away again. Sigh. Damn, I am tired of being a witch.

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