"F**k" said the parrot.
It has learned a new word.
The parrot is sitting on top of a refrigerator dancing from one foot to the
other and cocking it's head to survey the scene below. It is a small
unremarkable kitchen in normal circumstances but now there is a melee of tipped
up furniture, broken crockery and a body lying spreadeagled on the linoleum
floor. The stench of alcohol is thick in the air. The fridge hums peacefully
as though nothing is wrong.
The parrot ruffles it's feathers and watches as the body
slowly untangles and sits up.
"I hate you, you filthy bird".
The parrot remains silent, it's beady eyes fixed on the man
as he staggers to his feet.
"They say I'm dangerous when I'm drunk." The man
lets out a cracked laugh. " You should've stayed in your cage. I
hate you. I've always hated you and now I'm going to kill you. She loves you
filthy bird. She'll leave me for good this time but I don't care anymore."
Then there is a knife in his hand. He weaves his way
unsteadily across the kitchen slipping on broken glass and tripping on an empty bird
cage. He falls again making such a racket
that the parrot shrieks and swoops to the windowsill on the far side
of kitchen.
The man stumbles to his feet again, knife raised at shoulder
height. The parrot screams and glass smashes. The man topples forward from the
momentum of his throw. Face first into the shrapnel of his battle. He stays down.
"F**k" said the parrot and it hopped carefully out
of the broken window and flew away into the open sky.
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