21

Obviously, I hadn’t thought this out very well.

Did you think we’d be handing out dog biscuits?   Orange slices?  Lollipops?

The falconer slipped something squidgy between my gloved fingers.

It was a quail head.
A baby quail head.

Already I felt the air moving so I braced for the hawk.

how can i weep?
enjoy your dinner
ancient one

“I am the hawk and there’s blood on my feathers, but time is still turning – they soon will be dry.”

One thought on “21”

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