The Bluebird of Awkwardness

This is a bizarro story

I love you, she said, face beaked in a knitted wool nose warmer. The man looked at her shriveled smile and crinkled eyes and tried to know her. I love you, repeated the squat old stranger. With an expectant look in her eyes she flapped her arms like a penguin and revealed her brown front teeth. Im sorry, said the man, but Im not sure who you are. He stood uncomfortably beside her for a moment waiting for her face to be shattered by disappointment. Soon she would recognize her mistake. Any time now she would apologize and walk away, allowing the man to get on with his life. He stood there patiently for an obscenely long time, but the old ladys countenance didnt change.         

Thats ok. I love you anyway, she explained. She blinked innocently and continued to stare, a bizarre caricature of a wise old owl.         

Then came the fluttering. Inside his head there grew a peculiar pressure. Not the dull pressure of a headache or the stabbing of a migraine, but a scratching like a small animal was trapped inside his skull. The pressure increased with each passing second. The scratching and shifting meatiness, unbearable and embarrassing in this sustained moment of social awkwardness.         

I love you, she said as he fell.         

His head burst against the curb and out flew a tiny red bird. The pressure continued to grow. In a panic to rid his skull of the winged vermin, he raised himself and dropped again so that the hole could be made larger. Another bird came fluttering out, this one blue. Then another red one. And still the pressure grew.         

The old woman smiled and clapped the red, too long sleeves of her cardigan together in front of her face, I love you. I love you. I love you.        

 Again, his head thunked wet and brittle against the curb, blossoming his wound and unleashing countless more. Hundreds, maybe thousands of small birds burst free; yellow, green, orange, white. Birds of every size and color bled rainbows into the dusky sky.         

The woman, laughing silly and innocent, clapped and cheered as the birds flew away. She waved at them and readjusted her woven beak.         

The man stared stupidly at the last bird, he assumed a canary, as it flapped away. Still not knowing the woman or what was going on, he struggled to his feet and gave her a hug. She kissed him gently on the cheek and said again, I love you.