She’s been hearing birds recently, even above the growling traffic of the urban grey. It must be something to
do with spring and the blackbirds at dawn and dusk, the prehistoric shriek of
the gulls scavenging bins and the chit chat of sparrows on branches as she makes her way to
work.
In fact she’s begun imagining herself to have wings that lift her up over
the streetlights and tarmac to blue skies, away from the rush hour fumes and angst,
all those creased faces who’d give anything to be on holiday or under the duvet
dreaming still.
Her wings stretch six foot to each side and she’s climbing high.
Bye bye!
