I listened to Tweetu flutter angrily in his cage. My guess, he was experiencing a vicious case of “hanger.” This cold left me unable to function, leaving my poor birdy starving.
I did try, but I became comatose. Tweetu died while I managed to survive. He’s buried under the tree in my backyard. I can’t deny his death left me sorrow-filled.
My whole body, even my womb, ached. Then, just like that, my wish came true.
It took one bullet to finish me, a stray one meant for someone else. However, untimely, I was eager to reunite with my Tweetu.