Archive for the tag “fly”

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My little accomplice

ImageLast time I saw him, I was just about to tell him that I was going away, when he finally just flew off to the roof of the abandoned house next to the office, picked up a twig he had left there earlier, and disappeared into thin air. Which is just as well; I hate goodbyes and I’m crap at them.
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Our affair started on a long dreary day at work in which we were forced to attend this full-day meeting on some HR bullshit. Incredible how employers manage to make an otherwise decent job dreadful, and so uselessly. The sheer amount of platitudes coming out of these meetings is enough to write a legion of bibles; which, come to think of it, is also part of the industry.
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I was sitting next to an open window – it was a warm sunny April day and the others’ words seemed to just float around me and fly outside, becoming things, animals and people. Trees, flies, spiders, cars, donkeys, cats and children, mostly.
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Without thinking, I was crumpling little pieces of bread from my sandwich into tiny cannon balls to be shot by my finger. At one point, he came into my frame, so calm and peaceful until his unannounced intrusion from nowhere. He started approaching the tiny pieces of bread that had landed on the window sill, picking them and pecking at the larger ones, hopping, staring at me for a second, and picking more. It went on and on, and he also started picking the larger pieces and flying with them to his little secret place in the abandoned house and come back until the day was thankfully over and we were liberated from the tyranny of management.
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From that day onwards, he kept visiting me by the window, hopping along the ledge where I left him breadcrumbs and an ashtray with fresh water, which he would drink from and bathe in under the sun. Whenever I was away from the office, I would leave him extra supplies of bread, but my colleagues told me he would peck all day at the window, driving them crazy. My manager once even threw a cup of coffee at him, but he obviously outsmarted her and she ended up hitting a wheelchair-bound child in his face while he was passing by. So for most of the time, especially when I was away, people avoided my office, which is great.
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I wanted to have a quick word with him before I left on a new assignment a year ago, tell him to behave, reassure him that my colleagues had clear instructions to feed him everyday, down to the type of bread he loved most (crunchy dry pitta). But he had none of that as he flew before I opened my mouth.
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Yesterday my manager sent me this desperate email.
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Your fucking sparrow is back with an entire family all knocking on our windows. COME BACK NOW!
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I think it’s hilarious. She also called to make sure I got the message. She was hysterical, accusing me of sabotaging the office. I still can’t believe I’m going back, because of my little sparrow.
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I’m coming, I told her at last. But calm down, I can’t fly.

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