The Birds

Her feet had barely touched the pavement when she was surrounded by a fury of feathers as the army of birds inhabiting her driveway arose. Without a moment’s hesitation her hand dove into her pocket and furiously worked at the lock until she was free to flee into the comforts of her home. Fingertips peeked over the windowsill followed shortly thereafter by two eyebrows and a pair of very mistrustful eyes that were narrowing in on the winged beasts. The battalion had reassembled on a neighbor’s roof and, had the birds been alert enough, they would have noticed the wary orbs that followed their every move as they schemed. She watched them through the glass panels of her fortress, speculating what dastardly deeds they could have planned and how they would go about executing them. Also, did birds secretly crave human flesh? In any event, she deemed the situation too risky and decided her safest bet would be to remain indoors, keeping an eye on the ranks every so often. She was fairly certain she didn’t believe they were really that malicious (I mean, she had learned from the stuffed cat fiasco that birds didn’t have much of a backbone… and poor control of their bladders when they were frightened) and most of these thoughts were so she could convince herself there was a legitimate excuse for staying home. Some days are just like that.