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| Photo by Gerry |
Deep amongst the almond blossoms birds gather. Black and white striped feathers flap while brown eyes watch carefully. They look for signs of life. The Red Shouldered Hawk’s attention is sharp. Only one section in this grove, bathed in light as the morning sun rises higher, interests these birds of prey. Between the rows of bark, between the sunspots on the earth lies a hand straining forward. His fingers convulse slightly as the blood drains from his body. Two gunshot wounds ooze as his heart pumps the life giving force out, staining the dirt red.
The hawks start to circle. Landing close they peck at spots which are easiest to break away from the flesh. Other birds smell the freshness of the meal. More gather to this feast. They peck and tear until there is little left. A breeze passes through the almond orchard, ruffling the leaves and kicking dust into the air. It scares the birds of prey. They scatter like water to thrown rocks, leaving behind a corpse of wires and circuitry. Another mechanical murder, two days before the Magistrate is anointed.
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I’ve been away for a while. I wish I could say it was something exotic like a vacation to Angkor Wat but no, I’ve been sick. I’m thinking of keeping Fridays as Fiction Fridays. I think it’s a bit fun and will allow me to do more writing related blogs during the week. What do you think? Good? Bad? Let me know in the comments.
