jueves, 23 de septiembre de 2010

#9

The next night, by the window that faced the backyard, we were talking about Anthony’s new semiwingless condition. Was it feeling less a bird?

If it wasn’t for me, at first, I think he would have probably kicked the bird out, but I knew he wouldn’t have liked it flying around the apartment so I eliminated his chance to find something to put against us kipping it and that is the reason for what why I did. For the sick of our new adventure.

Anthony was comfortably lying by his side looking at me with a look I have been starting to recognize. I could read the way it felt like belonging right there in the kitchen, right there at eleven in the night, right there to me. I wondered inside about him being conscious of that and if it would have felt something like this in its past life with the other birds, insects and foliage.

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