Life The Birds: Part Three
posted by November 24 at 15:05 PMon
Near the corner of 12th and Jackson, a wild burst of birds, an eruption of flapping and feathers. Over a hundred pigeons fly up and out in every direction. They panic the air and startle pedestrians with bird shrieks. Suddenly, striking from the sky, a massive hawk nails one unfortunate pigeon with its claws. The pigeon is punctured, the pigeon struggles and screams, the pigeon’s life is crushed out of it by the unforgiving tarmac. (Thank god I’m not bald like ancient Aeschylus! I run across the street—this is too much, this is the middle of a fucking city!) The hawk then takes to the sky with its prey—neck and beak broken, tongue sticking out, black eyes blank. The hunt and kill happens with no thought, no pause, no waste—it’s just pure action, pure force: the hawk, the power of death; the pigeon, the weakness of life.
That is the end of The Birds series.