“Why are you so afraid of losing?” he asked, “Everybody loses something or someone at some point in their lives.” He walked away from her, and his lips moved into a position that she would never expect to see. She started thinking about those two parrots she had when she was young. Chirping around, those two greenish birds brushed her with kisses and the yellow feathers on their heads. Claws overlapped each other and clanged on the cage. She fed them with water, held her crayons but she felt like a little thief. He mumbled, “You cannot capture them.” “You cannot hold onto them.” “You cannot cage them.” But she was too late to let go of them. She could barely remember the whole robbery that afternoon: the glass was shattered in the garden, the cage was crippled and knocked over, the yellow feathers were scratched off, the screechy laugh of the cat was heard and the broken claws were lying in her palm.

October 2016