I came back that way again, this afternoon. I know the cobbles too well and they know me. I’m not going to look at the place any differently now, though; don’t need to. I got her back and in the sweetest way. A night together. Enough.
I don’t see her anymore. She eventually got away from me. Flew off in the morning, like the rest. But there will be more, of course. Plenty more chances.
The magpies have gathered again. Never seen so many. As I approach them, six fly away. One remains on the grass, laid down on its side. It has been there since the evening, it had stared at us. Indignantly. I tried shooing it, but it didn’t move far.
I pick it up with spotless palms. Maybe a little bit of it went with her. I bring it close, brush aside the feathers. My teeth sink into the exposed white underneath. Slowly, of course. It tastes so sweet and pretty and soft. That’s her, alright.
Her giggle passes overhead, but it’s just the birds.
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