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Starlings

A Story Every Day in 2024 April 28th 119/366

By Rachel DeemingPublished 2 years ago • 2 min read
Starlings
Photo by Daniil Komov on Unsplash

She was sat, having a coffee and gazing out of the window at the washing on the line. The sky was darkening. She should probably think about seeing if it was dry and getting it in. While she could.

A scattering of pigeon feathers littered the lawn. She hoped the pigeon was alright and the cats that chose to use her garden as the local lavatory had not, like a McDonald's, come to use the facilities and then left with the cat equivalent of a Big Mac. If they did, they could have at least have taken their litter with them.

She was procrastinating.

She had a call to make. It was literally life or death. Dramatic but true. Her results had come back and it was not good. Deadly, in fact. Terminal. The only terminal she had had to deal with at this point was in airports. And train stations? Did they have terminals in train stations? Or was that terminus?

She wondered at her mind's capacity to drift and if it was her consciousness' way of manifesting her cowardice.

Not that she wouldn't confront her own demise. Eventually. She smiled at her own ironic wit. Because, of course, we all confront our end. Eventually. She just didn't want to know the sentence she would be given before meeting hers.

But there was a drug to delay the inevitable; it was expensive. The doctor said she might be eligible for some free treatment, and pay for the rest. She didn't have all the money needed. Nobody she knew had the money to lend. She didn't want her family to be saddled with a debt if her treatment wasn't successful.

Pharmaceutical companies were providing hope, and then profiteering from it. They were dangling a very large carrot but charging exorbitantly for a nibble.

They had you on a golden hook.

Starlings flew onto the grass. She watched one pull a worm out of the soil. It held it in its beak and she could see the worm writhing, trying to save itself. The starling was holding it firm, never letting go.

She sighed. She dialled. She was put through to the doctor.

"Any news?"

"I'm afraid..."

***

366 words

A sad tale. I can't believe that people are facing this and yet, I can.

And whilst I've used the starlings in this story as a metaphor, they too are in decline and this is a shame. Perhaps not for worms but in terms of the fact that they are the Liberace of the bird world. Look at that plumage, the iridescence, the flamboyance, the colour. But also the fact that they provide one of nature's most wonderful spectacles: a murmuration.

If you get a chance, watch the video:

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

119/366

MicrofictionPsychologicalStream of ConsciousnessShort Story

About the Creator

Rachel Deeming

Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.

I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:

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    Written by Rachel Deeming