Teo

About

I watch from a tree above and rustle my feathers in irritation when a pushy pigeon wanders too close to your shoes. I am pleased when you don’t share your crumbs with the dirty sky rat and it waddles off in defeat. I fly down and land on your shoulder. You don’t even seem surprised. As though you were waiting just for me and you reach into your pastry bag and bring out your offering. I hop down to your wrist and take the piece of pastry carefully from your fingers. I am waiting for you to speak to me. Somehow, every time I hear your voice, I feel like I am bleeding in reverse- like something …