zebra finch
you were on the phone this evening when you noticed your cat acting unusual in the bedroom. normally she'd be hiding under the bed after being outside, but she was zooming here and there.
five minutes in, you saw - she had brought in a zebra finch. the tiny bird sitting there, helpless. you thought it was dead until it hopped half an inch away.
hanging up the phone, you shooed the cat, got some tissue paper and picked up the bird. it was so impossibly light.
you placed it outside your front door. it didn't move. you didn't want to frighten it - you were frightened yourself.
ten minutes later, the bird had moved closer to the front door, clearly cold. you cut open a tissue box, lined it with tissues, put the finch inside, and moved the box somewhere dark and quiet.
and now you're writing, worrying. you hope the bird will be okay. you hope you won't have to...
is that selfish? you don't think so.
one thing can be two things. you don't want the bird to die and you don't want to be the one to put it out of it's misery.
please bird, be okay. i love you.